


The Moments that Made Us

by cometthespacerock



Series: When It's Time [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Bullying, Chapter Fic, Cody is a gift, Coming Out, F/F, Gen, Hooty the Owl, It Gets Better, Lorcan is annoyed by his twin, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Name Calling, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Social Issues, Some angst, Verbal Abuse, dark thoughts a head, first person POV, gotta get through the early years first, lysander is a hipster, potion issues, slight abuse, some homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 111,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cometthespacerock/pseuds/cometthespacerock
Summary: I’m Albus Severus Potter, and there are three things I’d like for you to know.One: I am not my father. I am not some lookalike with a lightning bolt scar and messy hair with out of date glasses.Two:  You don’t know me. All the magazine articles in the world won’t tell you a single thing about who I really am.The third thing is: I’m not a psychopath. I know what I’ve done in the past, and I know the consequences I’ve faced for it. I promise you I’m not the next dark lord, or the next evil bad wizard set to take over the world.There is a fourth thing you should know as well. If anything, it’s probably the most important thing about me that you should know: It’s that I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend, Scorpius Malfoy.So long story short, this is the story of how I, Albus Severus Potter, got with the love of my life: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.Or rather, the moments that made us.Completed Fic, will be updated weekly.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is!! My long awaited fic! Thank you so much to everyone who has given me encouragement and help with this fic! It is completed, so it will be updated weekly. Probably Mondays.

I’m Albus Severus Potter, and there are three things I’d like for you to know.

One: I am _not_ my father. I am not some lookalike with a lightning bolt scar and messy hair with out of date glasses. I’m not going to give you his autograph, or become the next greatest wizard auror, or the next boy who lived. I won’t give him your resume in hopes to impress him and give you a job right out of Hogwarts, or tell him about some impressive skillset you have. I won’t do any of that.

I’m not my mother, either. I don’t have red hair, and only have a slight amount of freckles. I’m not the best chaser the Harpies ever had, nor am I some quick thing on a broomstick. I also won’t give you her autograph, or try and weasel your connections into conversations in hopes you have your _brilliant_ talent discovered. I’m not going to give you free tickets to quidditch, either. If you want them, you’ll have to find your own damn way to get there.

I’m also not my brother. I wasn’t head boy, and I wasn’t a prefect. I’m not some hot shot over egotistical quidditch player with hopes of doing quidditch after school ends, or having talent good enough to even make my way _on_ to a quidditch team. I’m absolute shit on a broom, and my quidditch skills are highly questionable. Trust me, even I wonder how I got them.

I’m not fantastic like Teddy. Teddy Lupin, who somehow opened a trendy shop, a raving business that has people flock to it. Teddy Lupin, who is the _best_ not-son a father could have. He may not be blood, but he’s considered family, perhaps more worthy of the Potter name than I could ever be. He may not be that Potter Gryffindor, but he’s got the charm of his mother and father, _heroes_ in the eyes of my father.

I’m not the princess of the family, either. I’m not Daddy’s precious Lily Lu, or poppet, or whatever nickname he can think of at the moment. I’m not _just_ a Weasley, or anything like my mum’s family, or like my dad’s family. I’m not James Potter, or Lily Potter. I’m also not my namesakes, and they are _not_ me. I won’t be like them, and I don’t _want_ to be like them. 

They’re both stuffy professors who were famous in their own time and age. According to my dad, they’re the _bravest_ professors he’s ever met. To me, they’re just old men who I share a name with, or, according to some of my disgruntled relatives, people I shouldn’t have been named after.

Two: You don’t _know_ me. All the magazine articles in the world won’t tell you a single thing about who I really am. All the articles only have threads of truth, and everything said in almost all of them are a _lie_. I’m not the Slytherin Squib, or the Crybaby Slytherin. Anyone that interviews and says they know the real gossip about me are _lying_. So don’t believe anyone, or anything that you hear in a tabloid trash. There’s only one person that really knows _everything_ , but he won’t tell anyone. He’s respectful enough to keep the secrets that need to be kept, and he won’t leak out any sort of dangerous information. The only others that come close to knowing even close to everything won’t tell you shit, either. They’re muggles, and they only know half as much as my best friend does.

The third thing is: I’m not a psychopath. I know what I’ve done in the past, and I know the consequences I’ve faced for it. I promise you I’m not the next dark lord, or the next evil bad wizard set to take over the world. I’m not a heartless _freak_ , at least, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I really don’t think I am. Maybe my friends think differently. But I can really promise you that I won’t be the next dark lord, or start some wizarding war because of blood purity or other reasons. I won’t tattoo a dark mark on my arm, and spout the shit of Slytherin’s past. I’m just a little… _quirky_ sometimes. Or, as my mother insists, I just needed some _extra help_. But if you _do_ think I’m a psychopath, then at least don’t tell my family that. My mum will hex you into the next town over, and you’ll give my dad the most strained face you’ll ever see on him. My sister will take no time in throwing hexes at you, and my brother will join in as well. You may even get some additional help from some cousins, or my godbrother Teddy Lupin if you do. So it’s best for your health to just not mention that sort of thing.

There is a fourth thing you should know as well. If anything, it’s probably the most _important_ thing about me that you should know: It’s that I’m _hopelessly_ in love with my best friend, Scorpius Malfoy. It’s the journey of how I got where I am and how he _finally_ fell in love with me back. It’s not _that_ cliché of a story. Just a lot of fucking up until I _finally_ get things right.

So long story short, this is the story of how I, Albus Severus Potter, got with the love of my life: Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

Or rather, the moments that made us.


	2. Flying Blocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of everything.
> 
> _When I was almost four years old was the start of everything. My youngest sister Lily was only a baby, then. She had bright red hair, and soft brown eyes like my mother. She was bright and cheerful, and she made cute noises that the adults cooed over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1! Thank you to all the positive comments. I am aiming to update at least once a week. My initial plan was to have the prologue and the first chapter uploaded around the same point in time.

** Flying Blocks **

When I was almost four years old was the start of everything. My youngest sister Lily was only a baby, then. She had bright red hair, and soft brown eyes like my mother. She was bright and cheerful, and she made cute noises that the adults cooed over. She cried when she was hungry, and she did adorable yawns when she wanted to sleep. She was everything my mother and father wanted in a baby girl. She looked exactly like the Weasley baby girl that everyone was hoping for.

I took well to her at first. Mum explained to me that she was going to be my baby sister, and that I was going to be her big brother. I was going to be one of the big kids, like Jamie was. Being like Jamie was the height of my excitement. Finally, I wouldn’t be stuck being one of Gran’s special helpers, and all the games could now include me, for as I was now technically a _big kid_. This meant so much to me in all of my almost four years of life. Being a big kid, now meant that I couldn’t be put off to the side. I could play games with my brother and cousins, and now I could even tag along on games like _climb the tree_ that my brother and cousin Freddie often played when they came over. I was so excited, I couldn’t wait to tell Jamie.

Running down the hall to exclaim to my older brother, I came to a halt. The room that was painted the pale colours was changed. The light blues were changed to faded pinks, and all the chair coverings had been changed to match that. The white cot was still present, only the bedding I remembered was replaced with choices I’d never like.

It was like an overnight change. For as long as I could remember, my room had always been across the hall from Mummy and Daddy, with baby Lily sleeping right next to their bed for her night time feedings. Mummy had told me once when Lily was a teeny baby that she would one day have to use my room as it was closest to their room, but the talk had escaped all my memories.

Lily had gone from being a teeny baby to a larger baby, still sleeping in the same room as my parents. For a little while, we shared the same room until she got fussy at night and it was determined that it was time for me to get my own bedroom. I had never in my wildest thoughts thought that my parents would move my room down the hall and put Lily’s where I used to sleep. But with Lily being younger and deemed more delicate, the decision to move me became obvious to everyone but myself.

“Jamie,” I cried out, running down the hall to his bedroom. The sudden halt made me grab his doorknob, startled. He looked up at me, his messy hair flicked into his eyes and a scowl on his face as he held a book in his hands. He didn’t want to admit to me what he was doing, that he was practicing his reading and _not_ playing like he said he was.

He shut his book and scooted off his bed. “You’re not supposed to be in my room. I’m doing _school_. Mum says you’re _not_ _supposed_ to be in my room when I’m doing school.” He had crossed his arms in order to appear more intimidating.

“But my room, it’s _gone_.”

His eyes shot up in amusement, and within moments I snatched his hand to tug him to what was once my room. He took a look around the once painted blue nursery and shrugged his shoulders, immediately removing his hand from my own grip. “It’s Lily’s room now.”

“No it’s not, it’s _mine_.”

James shrugged his shoulders. “It’s Lily’s room now. Mum and Dad must’ve moved you closer to me.” He points down the hall. “That’s Teddy’s room, that’s mine, and that’s Lily’s.” He didn’t seem too phased and went back to his room, this time closing his door.

Distraught, I was not going to let Jamie win this, and ran down the hall and down the stairs to the living room.

“ _Mummy!”_

Eyes didn’t meet in my direction, although the thumping of the stairs was enough for her to call my name. “Albie, no running on the stairs!”

“M’not running!” I cried back, although the last thump of jumping off the step didn’t seem to fool her. I made my way into the living room, Mum sitting on the couch with my sister in her lap. Heat warmed my cheeks as I saw my baby sister. _She_ was the reason for this. All of this. “M’not!” I cried louder.

Mum put her fingers to her lips. “You’ll wake your sister.” She remained calm, bouncing the sleeping toddler as she spoke. “What happened now, Albie?”

“My room is _gone_ ,” I repeated, and Mum just gave me a small look of confusion. She patted the sofa for me to climb onto, as long as I remained quiet. “I went to my room an’ its _pink_ an’ I don’t _like_ pink an’ and all the covers is _not_ mine. An’ Jamie told me that it’s _Lil-lee room_ , an’ that he was doin’ _school_ so I can’t play.” Mum pulled me closer to her.

“What have Daddy and I told you about going into Jamie’s room when he’s doing school work?” Mum asked.

I let out a tiny sigh. “That I gotta leave him ‘lone cause he’s study.”

She nods, and strokes my hair back. “When your brother is doing school work, it means you can’t come in.”

“But my _room_ -“

“Al, we told you a few weeks ago that Lily’s going into the Nursery. You’re a big boy now, and you don’t need to sleep next to Mummy and Daddy’s room. Come on,” she says, and takes my hand in hers. She holds my sister with one hand as she takes my hand, walking me up the stairs. “There’s Teddy’s room, see,” she says, as she points to the room furthest down the hall. The door is opened ajar, neatly tidied bedding and books placed about. “Next is Jamie’s room.” She points to the room with the closed door. “And then there’s Albie’s room. Look,” she says, and pushes the door open.

The room is painted blue, with stars charmed on the ceiling to light up at night. The bed is placed in the middle of the room, with shelving above. The bedding has little trains printed all over it, with a white plush owl sitting on top of the pillow. There’s a bookcase across from the bed, and the toy box at the end of the foot of the bed.

“Hooty likes the room,” Mum says, and smiles at me, stroking my hair back lovingly. “Sorry it took Daddy a long time to put things together. But it’s _your_ very own big boy room, Albie! See,” she repeats. “All your toys and books and even your special trains to sleep on! Is this better than a _baby_ room?”

My eyes scan around the room. It _is_ just a little better than the old room. I look up at my mum who gives me an encouraging smile. I go over to my bed and pull Hooty off, going to stick his foot into my mouth for comfort and nod my head.

She lets out a sigh of relief, and then leaves me to play in my new room.

I wish I could say that was the worst of my behavior at that age, but it was only the beginning. As I got older, everything only got worse. My comprehension with people absolutely sucked, leaving in some very awkward situations. For starters, my self-imposed dislike of my little sister.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my little sister, but the reality of being a big brother didn’t match in my head with how I thought things would be. Turns out, being a big brother didn’t change anything about me being a part of the big kids. I still spent a majority of my time at Gran’s with her in the kitchen. I had an intense jealously of my sister, and all she represented to me. She and James had everything that my four year old self wanted—and I also had some immense social problems with communicating with females. Lily, I learned, was no exception to this situation.

I was playing alone in my room, much like I did when I wasn’t trying to be the shadow of my older brother. My younger sister had made her way into my bedroom and wanted to play with me. She had started to grab at some of my toys, pulling them off their shelving to begin playing with them. Myself at the time thought this was the biggest deal in the world. I tried to explain to my little sister repeatedly that I didn’t _like_ girls, and I didn’t want to play with them. She pushed back, howling and screaming, and so in my stupid toddler mind I decided that I would make her _not a girl_ so she could play with me and I perhaps did the dumbest thing my four year old self could think of: I cut her long, fiery, Weasley red hair off. I had thought that I was doing Lily a favor, making her look more like _one of us_. Considering my only comprehension at the time was that girls had long hair, and boys didn’t, I fully thought she would happily accept to being one of the boys. Now, she could enjoy all the wonderful things James and I got to experience. When James walked by my room, I proudly explained to him that I made Lily a boy now, and he scrunched his brows and gave me an angry look.

“You’re in big trouble, Albus,” he replied, staring at the craft scissors I had in my hands and the red laying on the floor. “I’m telling Mum,” he adds, calling her loudly. He glares at all that I’ve done. “Why do you have to be so stupid, Albus? No wonder no one wants to play with a _baby_ like you. You ruin everything,” he says to me, waiting for Mum to come into the room.

“What is it James?” She calls back, following my brother’s voice into my own bedroom. She looks at James, then at a crying Lily, then at me. Her eyes wander to my older brother who puts his hands up defensively.

She looks at me then back at Lily. A sigh escapes her mouth and she gives me a look. “Albus Severus Potter,” she says, sighing at the situation around her. “Albus Severus Potter,” she repeats, staring at the sobbing Lily. “Albus,” she repeats, going to press her hands to her temples and sighs again. “James, go watch your brother while I clean up Lily,” she instructs.

“You’re in _really_ big trouble now,” James replies. “Big big trouble. Why did you have to do a dumb thing like that?”

“I told Lily no,” I said quietly. “She not listen.”

“So you cut her hair off?” James replies, brows raised in confusion. “Albus, you’re such a stupid head,” James says and shakes his head. “Just because she has short hair now, doesn’t mean she still isn’t your sister. You do the dumbest things; no wonder nobody likes you.”

“Nuh uh!” My eyes water. “Mummy likes me, Daddy likes me!”

He folds his arms across his chest, annoyed. “None of the cousins like to play with you because you’re an annoying pest and obnoxious to be around. Why do you think you never get found during hide and seek?” He spits out, grumpily sitting on my bed.

“I’m a good hider!” James rolls his eyes.

“Freddie says you’re _annoying_ and Domi says you’re a _baby_. Not a cute baby like Hugo, but an annoying one. Even the grownups think you’re _too much_.”

My eyes water more and I stomp my foot. My hand goes to clench into a fist and the next thing I know my brother’s forehead is red.

“ _Ow_!” James cries out. “You _hit_ me.”

“Did not,” I reply quietly.

“Your block hit me! You threw your block at me!”

“Nuh uh,” I said quieter. “Did not. My blocks is over there,” I tell him, pointing across the room.

He scrunches his brows. He puts two and two together and glares. “I don’t want _babies_ anywhere near me at Hogwarts.” He goes against my mother’s wishes and pushes me out the way and leaves my room.

“James,” I can hear my mum say. “Why aren’t you with Albus?”

“He’s a dumb baby who threw a block at my head,” James says.

“He did _what_ now?” Mum asks, her voice rising.

“Magically. His block magically hit me. Mum, why do you an’ Dad haveta have such a _baby_? Lily’s a baby but _she_ isn’t annoying or stupid. Albus is such a pest an’ _no one_ likes playing with him! Why can’t you just sell him or give him away? What if we trade him for Teddy?”

My heart flips, but I feel a little better when Mum speaks up. “James, you shouldn’t say things like that about your brother. You don’t mean that. You would be awfully upset if you woke up one day and Albus wasn’t here anymore.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

“ _James_ ,” Mum says in her serious tone of voice. “Why don’t you sit in here and think about the mean things you said to your brother.”

“But that’s not fair! Albus does a bad thing and _I_ get in trouble?”

“Albus will be punished for his wrongdoings, but so are you. Being unkind to people isn’t very nice. We don’t say those things in our house, especially about our family. Sit in here until I tell you it’s okay to come out. You know the rules,” Mum says, and I hear her come into my room. She shuts the door behind her and takes a seat on my bed.

“Albus,” she says, letting out a sigh. “What in Merlin’s sake has gotten into you? You do _not_ do these things. What were you thinking young man?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I told Lily no, an’ she don’t listen so I told her I make her not a boy so we could play together.” The plan made perfect sense in my head. I thought Mum would agree that I was being creative about solving my problems, just like I had in the past.

“Lily is your little sister. She is going to be your little sister no matter if she has long hair, short hair, or no hair. She looks up to you and loves you. Lily wanted to play with you because you’re her big brother, just like you want to play with James because he’s _your_ big brother.”

“Jamie don’t want to play with me. Says _no one_ wants to play with me.” I look up at Mum with tears in my eyes.

“What James said is not very nice, is it?” Mum asks, and I nod. “But James has a point, Albus. People don’t want to play with people who do mean things, or say mean things. Cutting your sisters hair is a mean thing. I want you to think about the mean thing you did to your sister. For the next week, no treats.”

“Mummy,” I whisper to her, cuddling up to her side. She looks down at me.

“Yes, Albus?”

“I didn’t _mean_ to hit Jamie with the block! It just _poofed_ an’ hit him in the head! I didn’t _mean too_.”

Mum strokes my hair back, and I squirm. I don’t like Mum messing with my hair. “You did accidental magic. I know you couldn’t help it, Albie. You’re not in trouble because of your accidental magic. Sometimes, when witches and wizards are little, they sometimes make things happen they can’t explain. It happens to all of us.”

“So I’m not in trouble?” I ask in a tiny voice. I shove Hooty into my mouth, starting to chew on the owl’s plush foot.

“Not for your magic. But you are for what you did to Lily.”

“Mummy,” I start again, words said around the foot of my beloved owl.

“Yes Albie?”

“You don’t want me gone like Jamie do you?”

Mum shakes her head and scoots me close. “Of course not. I need both my boys. I love you both.” She kisses the top of my head, and I squirm again.

“So I not in trouble then?” I ask, hopeful.

Mum shakes her head. “That’s not what I said. Come on, let’s go say sorry to Lily and James.” She grabs my hand, escorting me to their rooms.

I was punished for a week, even after Gran told Mum that _boys will be boys_ , and that my actions were often on par with what little boys _did_. She wasn’t excusing my actions, she made sure everyone knew that my behaviors were unacceptable. Gran just reminded everyone that boys tend to be rougher than girls. No one questioned her, either, since she raised my uncles Fred and George, and had learned how to deal with all their pranks and misbehaving.

The suggestion was brought up where perhaps I needed more social interaction with children my own age, which prompted my parents to place me into muggle nursery school. They had done the same with James to get him accustomed to the school environment, and it worked well with him. However for me, Muggle School didn’t curve my interactions with kids my own age. I was still very reluctant to join in on other’s games and didn’t like sharing my toys. When Mum and Dad met with my muggle nursery school teacher, she mentioned to them how I didn’t play well with others, and my development was one of the worst in the class.

“Albus has potential to be a good kid, as long as he doesn’t have to play by anyone else’s rules,” she stated, looking over at me while Mummy was helping me put my coat on. “But he has trouble with skillsets a child his age should know already. Most little boys develop slower, but catch up eventually. Albus has done no such thing. If he doesn’t improve, I’d suggest keeping him back a year. I don’t think he’s just yet mature enough for primary.” She gives my mum a nervous smile.

I couldn’t understand why my teacher thought that. Aside from the few times I would stand my ground, I really wasn’t a _loud_ kid. There were plenty of kids in my class that threw tantrums and cried all the time, often for no reason at all. I was pretty quiet, except when I was upset. Unfortunately, school upset me a great deal so I wasn’t as quiet at school as I was at home. I tried my hardest to be the sweet kid my grandparents saw me as, but the kids in my class just seemed to upset me. It was always over the dumbest of things, and I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just leave me alone. I didn’t really get what was so important about taking turns, or letting the other kids join me. Especially the kid who just laughed at me all the time because I was smaller. I didn’t think he deserved to play with the trains at all. Or the kids that always played wrong and made the trains crash all the time, or fly in the air (They weren’t magic trains either, so of course they can’t fly. But my dumb teacher said if _they_ wanted them to fly then the trains could.)

I tried my hardest to try and teach the kids in my class how to play the games the right way. It worked for a short amount of time, before the stupid mean kid who always laughed at me for being small and having a doofy name told me I was being dumb and smashed the train tracks I was playing with.

He grinned a devious little smile to me one day as he walked past all the kids in the class, dropping a slip of paper in each cubby. I watched as he put the slips in all the cubbies, then got to mine and skipped over it. He gave me a smirk, then nodded when the teacher asked if he gave an invite to every child in the class, as per the rules of the school.

He said he did, and she clasped her hands together and started to talk to us about the words of the day, and some new craft we were going to do. I looked back over at him as we sat in the circle and decided then and there, that I really didn’t care if nobody wanted to play with me, because I didn’t want to be stuck around any of the kids in this dumb class.

At the same time, it upset me that no one wanted to play with me. Even if my young self didn’t think they’d do so correctly, I still wished to be asked, especially when it came time to celebrate birthdays in the class. I didn’t really realize this until I was sitting on the kitchen counter at my Gran’s house, watching her make food. I was always her special helper in the kitchen, mostly because none of the other kids would let me play with them.

“Just Al and Lily today?” My Gran asks, as my mum places Lily on the ground. I watch as my little sister goes to wander to some of the toys my Gran leaves out for when we come over.

“James is at a birthday party,” Mum replies.

“Another? Such a popular little boy,” Gran chuckles. “How is Albus adjusting with school?”

“Not well.”

Gran looks over at me. “He doesn’t do that chewing thing with his owl does he?” She asks Mum who shakes her head.

“No, he doesn’t bring his owl to school. He’s not getting on well with the others.”

“He’s a sweet boy, but he is rather shy. Some kids take a little longer. James has always been a bit more _you know_ ,” Gran whispers, looking at me. “Than his brother.” Mum nods her head but lets out a sigh.

“His teacher is worried his social skills and manners aren’t up to par with the others.”

“I’m sure with time Albus will grow out of this little phase thing. Not all children are interested in having playmates at first. Percy was always more interested in being by himself. I wouldn’t fret too hard over this. It’ll pass, and soon enough Al will be invited to all sorts of parties with his little friends. Isn’t that right, Al?” Gran asks me with a small smile. “You just need to meet the right little playmates. They’ll come around. And you’ll always have myself and Grandpa,” she adds on, looking over at Mum. “Which is a lot more fun than silly trinkets and candy.”

My heart sank, because I didn’t understand why my brother would go to parties and play with kids who weren’t my cousins. I didn’t understand why no one invited me to these parties. For the first time in my life, I wanted those things. I wanted more than the comfort of my room. I wanted to be invited to these parties, and get cake and ice cream and be sent home with bags of candy I didn’t have to share because it was _mine_. I wanted little boys my own age, and my cousin Rose didn’t count.

Rose was only older than me by a few odd months, but like her mother she always acted as if she were older than she actually was. My young brain never acknowledged her as female. To me, she was always just Rose. She was my bossy cousin who spent most of her time accepted by the older cousins because of her vast amount of knowledge and that streak of Gryffindor she had in her. She was smart and reckless, the perfect Weasley combination. She also tattled her way into any situation where she didn’t get to join in. Uncle Ron took seriously Rose’s inclusion in my family activities.

When Rose and I did play together, it was mostly her directing me what to do, and one of us getting frustrated when the other wouldn’t listen. We often had disagreements, and then she would tattle that I would hit her, or tattle on me because I wasn’t following the rules. I didn’t consider Rose as my friend. She was my cousin, so, by default of our ages and our fathers, we were forced to be around each other more than we’d probably have chosen.

Rose went to muggle nursery school as well, but not the same one I went to. She went to one my Uncle Ron called for those who were _gifted_ , meaning that Rose was just sent to a muggle nursery school where everything she learned would probably never be used, since she and I were both going to Hogwarts when we turned 11.

But for now, I was stuck in muggle nursery school with kids who didn’t know how to play right, and kids that talked way too loud, and with my teacher who liked to make me do really dumb things. She was very into this activity she called circle time, where we would sit in a circle and sing songs and share stories and it involved a lot of social interaction with kids I didn’t like. I had tried multiple times to skip circle time, but each time I tried, a note got pinned to my coat when I went home for the day.

I was used to getting notes pinned on my coat. It wasn’t uncommon for it to happen to me. Then one day when my teacher pulled me aside, she pinned a brighter note to my coat. “Albie, make sure your mummy and daddy see this, okay?” She says to me, then pats my head and smiles at me. I ignored the note, and Mum didn’t see it until later that afternoon when James came home.

He scrunched his eyes and carefully read some of the words on the paper. Turning to me, he gave a little wicked grin. “You’re in trouble, now, Albie.”

I shook my head. “No m’not,” I tell him, and my voice starts to get whiny. “I didn’t do nothing!”

He yanks the note off my jacket. “Yes you did. I can read. You can’t. You’re in _big_ trouble.” He smirks at me, and runs off to the kitchen, note in hand.

Ever since he learned to read, James became even more obnoxious. He liked to claim the dumbest things, and because I can’t read, he would hold it against me. Like when he saw notes or tags on gifts, he would claim that they were all for him, even if they weren’t. He had a right fit, when I halfway opened one of his gifts on his birthday, thinking it was mine. After all, it wasn’t too unheard of for my Uncle Ron to give me a treat occasionally.

Mum came back into the room, note in hand and a very unpleasant look on her face. “James, can you go play with Lily for a little bit? I need to talk to your brother.” He gives me a snarky grin and heads upstairs. Mum scoops me up and takes me to my own room and shuts the door.

“Albus,” she says, and sighs. “Can you tell me what is going on at school?” I shrugged my shoulders and look down at my bedsheets. Mum puts her finger under my chin and tilts my head up. “Or in general?” She asks. “Is something bothering you? Is someone being unkind to you?”

The words spark my thoughts to the boy who snatched the train from my hands when I was playing, or the girl who was bothering me when I was trying to get back to playing. “Yes,” I tell Mum in a small voice. “I jus’ playing with the trains an’ then _he_ tooked them from me. An’ then teacher told me I had to sit in circle time but I didn’t _want_ to join in.” I unleashed all my frustrations to Mum about the dreaded circle time where I was forced to join in the activities and the kids who just wouldn’t let me play with the trains, and the girl who acted all bossy because I didn’t want to play her games. I let out my frustrations with the teacher, who always seemed to get mad at me because I didn’t want to play with the other kids, or when the other kids played. I confessed to Mum until I started crying.

Mum bent down to hug me, but then sat back. “Albus, you do have to learn to share, sweetheart. I know you’re not as interested in activities like circle time, or playing with certain people, but in school you have to do that. Mummy and Daddy had to play in school with many people we didn’t like. “I nodded quietly. “You can’t hit people, Albie. I know it’s hard being little, believe me,” Mum says and gives off a small smile. “I had _six_ big brothers. It’s hard when no one will listen, isn’t it?” She says calmly. I just nod again. “But hitting people isn’t the way to get them to listen. It just makes people feel bad, and you don’t want them to feel bad do you?” I blink at Mum and she waits for my response. “Albus,” she says after a few moments of silence. “When you hit your classmates or your cousins, or brother and sister, it makes them sad. That’s not nice,” she says and pulls me closer. “How would you feel if someone hurt you?” I give a little shrug and Mum just kisses my head.

It’s not too much longer when I find myself inside a waiting room at a muggle healer office. It’s not a normal healer, but one where there are lots of toys against a wall and chairs on the opposite side. Mum and dad are sitting beside me, Dad’s filling out some paperwork while Mum just holds me tight. She’s coddling me, and soothing me as I sit curled into her lap, my favourite toy owl, Hooty, tucked in my grip. Dad looks over the clipboard at my little sister, who somehow found herself tagging along. James was lucky, getting to spend the afternoon with some friends from his own school.

“Lily Lu, stay where Daddy can see you,” he says, but then goes back to his paperwork. He checks off some boxes, then signs the pages before going back to the front desk to return the board. Dad comes back to the seats and joins Mum in coddling me. He rubs at my back and smooths at my hair. “You’re okay, Al. It’s okay, baby boy.”

“Not a baby,” I mumble to my dad, mumbling around the foot of my beloved owl I kept stuffed in my mouth. Dad kisses my head.

As soon as a loud, “Potter, Albus,” rings out in the room, Dad kisses my head again and Mum takes me back, while Dad stays and watches Lily. The healer then tells Mum some things, before she kisses me and walks out the door to wait in a different area.

“Hey Albus,” the healer greets. He puts a warm smile on his face. I’m “Dr. Nicemen.” He sticks his hand out to me, but I don’t shake it. “Who’s this little guy?” He asks, and gives a little tug at Hooty’s wing. I jerk Hooty back quickly, and he just keeps the smile on his face. “C’mon. Let’s sit down, or go play, or whatever you want to do,” he says, bringing me over to a corner of the room with colourful rugs on the floor. There are toys on the shelves and a small table filled with every crayon in the rainbow. He takes a seat on the floor next to me. “Your mummy told me that your teacher says you’re having problems in school.” I shrug my shoulders and he just nods, then makes a note of something on his clipboard. “Do you want to draw me a picture?” He asks, and I brighten up a little. Drawing and colouring was something that I liked to do. I liked the solitude of colouring and the calmness of the activity. In school, that was perhaps one of the better times of the day. He notices me brighten up, and hands me a sheet of paper. “Can you draw me the best part of school, and the worst part of school?” He asks, and then sits back as I draw. When I’ve finished, I slide the paper across the table and he smiles. “Wonderful,” he says. “Care to explain the picture?”

I thought it was kind of obvious what it was, but I learned even with adults like Gran, who seemed to know everything, often had to have artwork explained to them. “It’s a train,” I tell him kind of dumbly, but he just seems to nod in excitement.

“And does your school have one of those train tables?” His lip twitches in an amused smile.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“Excellent. Do you like the train table, Albus?”

“Albie,” I say, and his lip twitches again.

“Okay, Albie. You like to be called Albie?” I nod my head and he continues. “Do you play with train tables a lot at school, Albie?” I bite at my lip, then nod. “Okay. Do any of the other kids play with you?” I shake my head no, and he writes another thing down. “Why?”

“Cause they’re _my_ trains.”

“Your trains?” He repeats in a question. His face has a goofy smile on it. “Do you not want the other kids to play with you?” I shrug my shoulders and he scratches something on his clipboard. “When you want to play alone, what to you tell the other kids?”

“I hit them.”

He stops writing and looks at me. His smile falls. “You _hit_ them?” He asks. “ _Why_?”

“So they go away.”

“You _hit_ your classmates so they go away,” he repeats. “But doesn’t that make them sad?” I shrug my shoulders and he jots down another thing onto the clipboard. His frown seems concentrated before he decides to ask another question. “Albus-Albie,” he corrects himself. “Let me get this correct. You hit your classmates to send them away from you in school,” he repeats. “So you don’t have to play with them. Your mummy told me that you have a lot of cousins. Do you play with them a lot?” He asks, and I just nod a little quietly.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you play with them?” I shrug my shoulders, then shake my head. “Why not?”

I study a black spot on Hooty’s fur, not looking at Dr. Niceman. He sits patiently and I wish I could tell time and could get out of the room. I look to the door, and I can’t see Mummy, but I know she’s waiting outside. He continues to stare at me, awaiting my answer. Finally, I decide to speak.

“Because I’m the baby,” I whisper. Dr. Niceman scratches some more words down onto his clipboard and I raise my voice just a little bit more. “Because I’m the baby,” I repeat, “and babies can’t play games with big kids.” I repeat the words I’ve heard from every cousin who is older than me.

“You’re the youngest of your cousins?” He asks me, and doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He just chuckles to himself. “Albie, it’s okay to feel upset that you’re not included,” he tells me. “Do you tell a grown up when you’re feeling this way?” I don’t even make a sound as he reads my thoughts. He can already guess what I’m going to say I do, and he sighs. “When you hit your cousins, does someone come talk to you?” I blink, and he just lets out another sigh. “Negative attention,” he says in a loud voice. He taps Hooty on the beak. “Albie, negative attention is when you do a naughty thing like hitting, because your mind knows that someone will come running. Therefore, you get noticed. Your mum says you have a little sister and older brother. Middle child.” He laughs to himself, and jots down another note. “Middle child syndrome. Classic.”

“Am I done?” I ask him, and he shakes his head, looking at the clock.

“Middle child syndrome is the feeling of exclusion by middle children. That explains why you hit. Your brain subconsciously knows that if you do a negative action, you’ll get attention. It’s _okay_ to want attention, Albie. But negative attention is not the _right kind_. You know that if you scream, or cry, or yell, you’ll get the reaction you want, and the attention you think you deserve. Yes, that’s _exactly_ it.” He taps his finger to his lip. He seems to be talking more to himself than to me. “It doesn’t explain why you don’t seem to get other people’s feelings, however.” I stare at him, and he stares back at me. “Let’s play a game, Albie,” he decides.

“I like games,” I respond, and he brings out a pack of cards.

“Right, so, I want you to tell me what is on each card.”

The game sounds impossibly easy, and the idea of winning such an easy game excites me. He starts by holding up a card with a yellow smiley face on it. Identifying shapes and pictures are easy, and I let him know my response quickly.

“It’s a smiley face!”

His smile is genuine as he nods. “Good. Is it happy or sad?” I pause, because I had never really thought of that before. I didn’t make a response and Dr. Niceman just nods his head at me. It’s as if everything clicks into place with him, and I end up more confused than anything. “People smile when they are happy,” he explains. “When do you feel happy?” He asks me.

“I like ice cream,” I respond, and my simple response makes him chuckle. “When Mummy gets me ice cream sometimes after nursery school.”

“Mmhm,” he hums. “When does Mummy feel happy, do you know?” I shrug my shoulders, and he jots down more notes. “What about Daddy, or your brother and sister? Do you know if they’re happy when they are smiling?” I shrug once again, and he just mumbles to himself. “Very well. Can you bring your mum in here?” He asks, and Mummy comes in the room. I climb into my mum’s lap as he begins to talk to her.

“He’s bright, but his social skills need a lot of work. He seems to have trouble expressing himself vocally, has he always been this way?”

Mum nods her head. “His older brother has a rather large personality. He’s more vocal, whereas Albus is more prone to shyness.”

“I see. Are you aware of the hitting?”

“He mixes up his self-defense with his impulsive actions. He often has temper tantrums, usually occurring after he is overwhelmed or frustrated. He’s four, he’ll have tantrums.”

“Right. But you see Mrs. Potter, Albus’ tantrums usually result in someone getting hurt. He doesn’t seem to understand the repercussions of his actions. More importantly, he doesn’t seem to understand other people’s emotions. He can’t see beyond the smile. If these were just stupid temper tantrums, then Albus wouldn’t be recommend to see me. It’s a pattern. His actions aren’t one off occurrences. They’re frequent, and his teacher has noticed over a course of her class that while most children are improving, Albus is behind. He is perfectly acclimated academically, it’s just socially he has people issues.”

Mum’s eyebrows rise up as she opens her mouth to speak. “So what do you suggest?”

“Continuing to see me, for starters. Practicing. Getting what is out in his head on to paper. I don’t think Albus needs to be held back because of his lack of social awareness. Not at this age. If he continues on a similar path, maybe hold him back. But that’s not until primary school and he’s only in nursery. Just work on keeping him aware of his surroundings, people, and proper manners. Things will work out, I promise.”

Mum looks at me, then at Dr. Nicemen. “Same time next week, then?”

His lip twitches in to a smile. “Of course, Mrs. Potter. Don’t worry Albie, everything will turn out alright.”

Something inside of me, tells me that this won’t be like going to the healers for a checkup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to check out my [writing tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com) and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	3. Sad Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nursery School isn't what Albus thought it was, hopefully primary will be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, next week we start year one of Hogwarts!!

“I say that is _wonderful_ ,” Uncle Percy says to Mum when we’re sitting at Gran’s house. It’s one of her special dinners she does. All of my cousins are playing with each other and I’m sitting in Mum’s lap. “Learning proper social skills is a key at a young age. Teach him manners, he will go far.”

“Oh Percy,” Gran says. “He’s just a boy. I don’t see why a mind healer needs to help out. He’s just behaving as little boys do. “

“Ginny, you should also get that lisp checked out. Too much thumb sucking if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Mum snaps back.

“And isn’t he too old to be chewing on a _soft toy_?”

“No, he’s just fine, Percy. Please,” Mum sighs. She place her head in her hands. “Evaluate more on how I’m raising my child. My _child_ who _can’t understand_.” She glares at him.

“Perhaps maybe more time at home—“

“Enough!” Dad slams his hands on the table, getting up. My lip trembles. Mum gives me Hooty to cuddle close to me. “Can we not talk about my _wife_ or my _son_ , please? I know you all have your inputs, but, _please_ keep the suggestions to a minimum.” Dad rubs at the sides of his head, frustrated.

We leave Gran’s house with Mum and Dad not very happy. Mum smiles at me kindly as she kisses my head, tucking me in to my bed. She tucks in Hooty, too, stroking my hair back from my face. Smiling softly, she goes to turn off my lights, letting my charmed stars light up my room.

I squirm in my bed, noticing that I’m suddenly very thirsty. Getting out of bed, I tip toe down the hall and down the stairs. I’ve got my favourite cup in my hands for Mum to fill, but instead I hear talking from Dad.

“Gin, people at work keep saying—suggesting—“

“Harry, he’s a _child_. It’s not true.”

“They just keep _joking_. I know it’s not true. But just say—“

“Are you _really_ saying _our_ Albus, _your son_ , could be the next dark lord? All because he has trouble with socializing? He’s a _child_ , Harry. He might be a little difficult at times, but think of how much _harder_ this is for him than us.”

“James wasn’t this hard.”

“He’s _not_ James.”

“I-I know. It’s just—you know how Albus is. When he has his moods.”

“I do.”

My heart stops when I see Mum and Dad sitting at the table. Both of them have their head in their hands, frustrated. Upset, I drop my cup to the ground and run up the stairs. I barge in to the room beside mine.

James is in bed, auburn hair all sticking up, his quidditch pajamas rumpled. He rubs his eyes, quickly forcing the black dog he had in his grip away. “Albus? I’m-I’m gonna tell Mum you’re out of bed!” He blinks again, rubbing at the sleep in his eye. He squints, face changing when he notices I have tears in my eyes.

“Are you—Albie?”

“Jamie, am I broked?”

James stares at me confused. “Broked? Why do you think that? Did someone say something?” I bite at my lip. James turns more concerned, which is rare for him. “Albie,” he repeats.

“Am I broked? I was gonna get some juice ‘cause I’m firsty an’ I heard Mummy an’ Daddy talking. Daddy an’ Mummy was sad. Do I make them sad?”

James stops, taking in my words. “Do you what--? Wait…”James shakes his head. “No, of course not. You don’t make them sad. “You—you know what that is?” He asks, a little shocked I could properly identify what was going on.

“I think so. Mummy has tears and Daddy has his head in his hands. Sad.”

“You don’t make them sad, Albie,” James explains. “They just—they don’t get it. It’s hard, ‘cause your brain is sick.”

“Nuh uh,” I protest.

“Yuh huh. See, Mummy and Daddy told me. Your brain don’t work like mine and Teddy’s and stuff. You don’t understand people like I do. What comes to some people naturally, doesn’t to you. You gotta be taught what I already know. Not like school stuff, but stuff like manners and people stuff. Mummy gets it better than Daddy. Daddy doesn’t really…its harder for him. That’s all.”

“So I’m _not_ the next bad man?”

James’ mouth drops. “ _No_. Who said that?”

“I heard Daddy…”

James goes to wrap an arm around me. “Listen Albie, people are gonna say mean things that they don’t understand. If they say mean things again, tell me so I can punch them in the face. You’re my baby brother an’ I won’t let _nobody_ be mean to you.” He hugs me tight, taking me straight back to bed with Hooty.

I don’t tell Mum and Dad what I saw that night. It stays between James and me, even when I get a little bit older and start primary school. When Mum has me set and ready to go for primary school, James looks over at me. He pokes at my backpack I have to wear and carry my school things in, then pokes at my booster seat I have to sit in when I’m in the muggle car.

“Bye bye Albie,” he says, eager to get out and go meet his own classmates. I sit, waiting for Mum to unbuckle me. “Have fun in _baby school_.” Mum gives him a rude look.

“Mummy…” Mum smiles gently, pushing my hair back from my face.

“It’s okay Albie. I promise.” She kisses the top of my head, helping me out of the muggle car. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

I take the seat at the table nearest the door. When I sit down, three other little boys are at the table. One with messy brown curls, one with messy blond curls, and one with dark brown hair.

“Okay boys and girls,” the teacher says as she claps her hands. “Let’s go around the room and say our names. Let’s start here at the farthest table to my right.”

“I’m Ryan Walsh.” He grins with a big smile and a slight wink. The teacher lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m Ashton Higgins,” the boy next to the curly blond says. The curly blond grins at the boy beside him.

“I’m Dylan Puddam,”the curly haired brunette boy beside me whispered. The teacher looks at me, and I say my name.

“Albus Potter.” There are snickers as my name is said, other kids starting to laugh at my name. I slump in my seat when they laugh harder, the teacher giving them a look.

“Boys and girls!” She claps her hands loudly to grab their attention.

I didn’t have friends in Nursery School; I don’t think I’d ever make a friend.

During lunch time the brunette boy with curly hair sits down beside me.

“Hi.” His voice is soft. “I’m Dylan.”

“I know.”

“So your name is Albus?” The blond boy asks, setting his tray of food down. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“My mum calls me Albie,” I respond.

“Well _I_ think Albie sounds like a cool name,” the dark haired boy says. “My big brother Jayce has a differentish name and I think it’s cool. My mum picked a boring name.”

“So did mine,” the curly haired brunette whispers quieter.

“Well _my_ mum and dad named my sister Summer because my mum is from Australia,” he brags. ”We’re half Australian,” he boasts.

“That’s _so cool_ ,” the boy with the dark hair, Ashton, states. “That is _super cool_.”

“My aunt is French,” I add, but the boys don’t ooh and aah over it like Ryan’s. “And my godbrother, he has blue hair.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh!”

“Blue hair? That’s _so cool_. My brother Jayce listens to music where people have blue hair and stuff. So cool.” His eyes go wide.

“We should be friends,” Ryan decides. “Because out of _all_ the kids in the class, you guys seem cool.”

“Okay.” Dylan nods quietly. “I can’t wait to tell Mum…”

When I rush out the building that day, I have the biggest smile on my face. I have _friends_. I have real, actual _friends_. “Mum!” I shout loudly, going to hop in the car. “Mummy, I made _friends!”_

Mum smiles big at me, even broader than I am. She’s excited. “Really? You made some friends? Albie, that’s _wonderful!”_

From that moment, my life was revolved myself and my friends. At first I thought that they’d leave eventually, but, they didn’t. From year one, all the way until the year before I went to Hogwarts. I spent the Summer Holidays with my friends playing at their house, at my house, and doing all sorts of normal muggle activities. Everything about it seemed like it would last forever.

James didn’t really like us hanging around his room now that he was in Hogwarts. But Ashton’s older brother Jayce wasn’t at all like James. He always let us play around near his room, even though he was much older. One day when I was playing over at his house, we got really wet after being outside in the rain. Ash’s mother didn’t like us being wet in the house, instructing us to change clothes.

The change of clothes turned out to be a shirt from Ashton’s older brother. It was one of the shirts from the music he liked. Ash’s brother Jayce, always listened to loud music. It was music that reminded me of Teddy and sometimes Mum. There were lots of guitar and heavy drums. When I changed in to the dry shirt, Jayce went over to ruffle my hair and laughed. “Looking like a proper punk rocker,” he teases. “Keep it kid. Mum, I’m going out,” he calls, waving bye to his brother.

“Your brother is _so cool_ ,” I tell my friend. He only grins.

“I know. Except when he invites girls over.”

“Ick.”

Dylan nods.

One evening the lads are sleeping over. We’re watching yet another film on the floor of the living room of my house. Normally when muggles come over, Mum and Dad allow my friends to stay in this select area after magic-proofing the rest of it.

We’re watching my favourite muggle film when Ashton and Ryan start talking about girls. They have been talking a lot about girls lately, and frankly, I found that to be annoying. They keep talking about possibly kissing girls and asking them to sit with them, and who is cute and who is not. When the credits of the film are rolling down the screen, Dylan shakes his head.

“I don’t think I could _ever_ kiss a girl,” he states to me. The song _You’ve got a friend in me_ is playing behind us, Dylan and I having our hands under our pillows for comfort.

“Me neither,” I agree. The thought of kissing girls didn’t seem appealing. “But I’m not a girl, so I guess you could kiss me.”

Dylan’s eyebrows raise. “Really?”

I shrug. “Well, I’m not a girl.”

Dylan nods. “True.” He pushes his floppy curls off his face, bending in to place a soft peck on my lips. “Not as icky as a girl, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, girls are _way_ more icky.”

The boys sleeping beside us don’t wake up as we giggle the rest of the night until falling asleep.

The year before I go to Hogwarts, everything started to change between my friends and me. It started right after I got back from holiday with my family. When I went to my first day of school with my superhero backback in my grip, just as I had the year before, I had found that we were sitting at the same table like always. But as the year progressed and they found that I was going to go away to boarding school, everything started to change and grow differently. Suddenly, my friends were playing with _girls,_ leaving me behind in all their activities. It was as if I had never existed, being left behind.

My year alone only got worse. When we had to have partners for our school trip, I had no one to partner with for the trip. My teacher had to assign me a random person, because even Dylan decided to not hang out with me on the trip. Normally Dylan doesn’t mind tagging along with me, even if the other guys say not to, but not this time. This time I had no one to sit with, or hang out with. It made the whole trip even worse.

Not having my friends around even made everything else worse. I didn’t have the same schedule as I did when I was playing at their house. Instead of being at their houses, my weekends were filled with errands with Mum. Every errand seemed even more dreadful knowing that my friends didn’t want me over.

Ever since Teddy started working in a hair shop, Gran didn’t have to cut my hair anymore. One boring errand Saturday, I’m sitting waiting for Teddy to be finished with my sister. Mum is beside me, using the time alone to work on some of my stupid muggle cards my muggle mind healer makes me do.

“Albie?” Teddy looks over at Mum. He smiles at her as he comes over. “Hey Albie.” Teddy bends down to my level. He reaches out to ruffle at my hair, letting Lily go back to Mum. “Your Mum said you were having a bit of a hard time this year.”

I look back at Mum, then quietly nod my head when I face Teddy again. “I guess,” I mumble.

Teddy smiles kindly at me. “Maybe you’d like to try something different this time around?” He suggests. He ruffles at my hair harder. “Maybe like one of your friends. Just a little change of pace to make you feel better.”

I look over at Mum, then push at my floppy fringe. I think a moment about Ryan’s hair, how it’s all swooshed up and pointed. It’s almost like a mohawk, but there’s still hair around the sides. I bite at my lip, thinking how I’d then not match my brother. On one hand, not matching him would serve him right, since he’s been a pain in the butt since school. On the other, however, I don’t know if I’d want to look like Ryan.

I look up a Teddy and shake my head. “No.”

“No? Still like Jamie’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Alrightie then.” Teddy smiles, giving my finished fringe a nice scoot to the side. “Albie, I’m going to tell you something. Chin up, kiddo. You’re a great kid and if those lads can’t see that then they’re not worth being friends with. When you get to Hogwarts, you’ll make good friends. Look at James, your mum, your dad. Don’t worry too much about them kiddo.” He plops a kiss to the top of my head as I squirm.

“Gross. You shouldn’t kiss people, Teddy.”

He raises a brow, smiling. “Is that so? Why not?”

“Girls have cooties. I’ve seen you with a girl and you’ve kissed one. You’re going to put those germs on me.”

Teddy laughs, waving a hand. “If you say so Al. Come on, your mum has to go to the apothecary.” He gives us a little wave as we leave the shop, waving his wand to start with another client.

Teddy’s don’t worry was wrong. I spent the rest of the year with no friends. Sometimes Dylan gave me looks like he didn’t want to be hanging out with our other friends, but, he never came over to sit with me anyways. So I instead spent the time drawing when I used to talk to my friends, or reread the book Mum gave me a few years ago. It’s my favourite.

I dreaded everything about the remainder of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments and kudos & check me out on my [writing tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)


	4. Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus preps for Hogwarts, gaining new friends along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see little Albie start his Hogwarts journey!! The story of how Albus Potter did not get his desired owl. Thank you all so much for your kind words and messages!

Unlike my brother, on my eleventh birthday I don’t wake up, bounding down the stairs. When Jamie got his letter on his eleventh birthday, he would tell _everyone_ about his letter and going to Hogwarts. I don’t, and when my letter arrives I don’t rush to open it.

As the owl swoops down to drop the letter, I look at my parents nervously. They just smile at me, urging me to open it. Mum and Dad both have their camera ready.

“Go on, Al,” Dad says. “Read it.” Mum stands beside him, proud.

“Dear Mister Potter,” I read carefully. “You have been accepted in to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

I put the letter down. “Do I have to go?”

Dad blinks at me, confused. “Why wouldn’t you _not_ want to go?”

I watch as Mum puts her arm gently on Dad. She has a small worried expression on her face, keeping touch of his arm as she whispers. “I think he’s a little nervous. You know how he is in social situations,” she adds softly.

Dad nods at Mum, then turns back to me. “Al,” he says, going down on one knee. “Hogwarts isn’t scary. You will make _loads_ of friends and everyone will want to be your friend! It will be great, you will see. We’ll even go shopping and you can get that owl you’ve been begging for since Jamie’s first year,” he adds, hoping that bribery will work.

“But James—“ I start, and my dad shakes his head.

“James isn’t telling the truth. He’s just trying to scare you. It’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Of course, Al. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

James steps off the train from his second year, and the second he sits next to me in the muggle van he pokes at me. “Snakey, snakey, hissy snake,” he teases, wagging his finger near my ear. He wets it, sticking it into my lobe.

“Dad!” I shout loudly. “James gave me a wet willy!”

“James,” Mum snaps, turning around. “Leave your brother alone.”

“Mum, I’m just telling Albus abut Hogwarts. How there are snakes all over and the dungeon is a scary place, and how only _snakes_ live there.”

“James,” Dad warns. “Enough. You’re scaring your sister.”

He looks at our little sister who is sitting next to me, twisting nervously at her red locks of hair. “Lily, I didn’t mean _you_ would be a hissy snake, just Al. He’s been so grumpy. You’d be with me,” he boasts proudly, puffing out his chest.”

“Not true, not true, not _true_.” If I could give a dramatic little stamp of my foot, I would. Instead, I reach my hand out to hit at my brother, only he grabs my arm and twists it. “ _Ow!_ Mum, he’s _hurting me!_ ”

“Enough!” My Dad shouts loudly. “Silence, both of you.” Lily trembles her lip. “Not a word from _either_ of you boys until we get home. Otherwise, _no_ Burrow trip for either of you.”

“Word,” James replies back nodding. Dad grunts, and Lily giggles.

The only thing my cousins can talk about when we arrive at the Burrow party is houses and quidditch. Rose comes bolting in to the party, flaunting her letter to my Gran. “Gran! I got my letter!” She boasts proudly. “I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts! I wish I could try out for quidditch, but Dad said no first years can. Do you think they’d make an exception? Dad said Uncle Harry got one! Oh, does Mum being minister mean I _could_?”

Gran laughs, petting her granddaughter’s hair as she envelopes her in to a hug. “Rosie, I’m so proud of you. Hogwarts will _sure_ to gain a great student. So smart,” she chuckles kindly. “You were always were a head of your age.” She kisses the top of it, Rose squirming out the grip and running to show off her letter to other aunts and uncles.

“Albie, did you get yours too?” She asks me kindly.

I nod my head.

“He’s a little nervous about school,” Mum explains.

“Oh Albie,” Gran coos. She wraps her arms around me in a squeeze. “My smart little Albie. So clever. So kind. There isn’t any reason to be scared. Hogwarts will be great, and I’m sure you’ll make wonderful friends.” She moves side to side as she keeps me wrapped in the hug. “You’re such a good boy.”

“James says I’m going to be a Slytherin,” I tattle. “Because I’m mean.”

“Nonsense. You’re my sweet little Albie. Any house you get it I’m sure you’ll be great. Victoire didn’t end up in Gryffindor, and she’s done just fine. Neither did Teddy.”

“But I don’t _want_ to be in Slytherin.”

Gran smiles, smoothing back my hair from my face. “I’m sure you’ll love whatever house you end up in.” She kisses the top of my head. “But between you and me, I’m _sure_ you’ll be a Hufflepuff. You’re so kind, so loving.”

“Jamie says my problem means I’ll be a Slytherin for sure.”

She waves her hand, shaking her head. “A social disorder is just that. Besides, you’ve made lovely little muggle friends. I’m sure you’ll make lovely little wizard friends, too. Write me all about them.” She bends to kiss the side of my head. “Now, how about my special helper helps me serve the cake? Hmm?”

“Fine.” No matter what she says, I still don’t think I can get the house she wants me to get. I hope I’m _anything_ but Slytherin. I would _hate_ to be Slytherin. According to Uncle Ron, only bad guys are Slytherins and _never_ has a Potter been one.

I wish my friends didn’t spend this year being dumb about me going to Hogwarts. Mum asked if I wanted them to come over and swim, but I hadn’t been able to play with them since last year. Ever since Ryan got in to girls, he became less fun, and ever since Ash and Dylan decided to tag along, _they’ve_ been less fun. Prepping for the year without me just makes me not want to go to Hogwarts _at all_.

“It’s Diagon Alley Day!” Mum singsongs as she opens the curtains in my room. I grumble, pulling the covers over my head. Mum laughs, tugging them off. “It’ll be fun. We’re finally getting you _your_ things. And I believe a certain little Albie is due for a _pet_ ,” she adds, and that causes me to scramble up a little faster. The only height of going to Hogwarts is getting my very own pet owl. I’ve been wanting one since James got one, and I’ve been promised I can get one _as soon_ as I go to Hogwarts.

Mum and Lily are sitting in Diagon Alley eating ice cream when Dad takes James and me in to the pet store. Mum is guarding all my new things, minus my robe. Since James just started his growth spurt, Mum and Dad decided that I _don’t_ need my own robe and can use his instead. So far, most of my wardrobe is his hand me downs. Nothing has changed…

“So, the owls?” Dad asks, going straight to the creatures in the back. There’s loud hooting from all the owls as James wanders his way back. He’s here to get more pellets for his own owl, plus some items for his care of magical creatures class. As he wanders through the shop, he stops on a cage. Snorting, he peers inside.

“What an ugly thing.” I walk over to the cage where the lonely ferret is laying.

“Hope the little fella gets a home soon,” the shopkeeper responds. “Broody little thing.”

I peer at the cage. The ferret is sleeping, but he’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. He’s little, with a long body and little paws. When I peer in, he comes up to me and licks at my finger. My eyes light up and the shopkeeper just nods.

“Do you want to hold him?”

I nod, reaching into the cage and picking him up and cradling him. Just as James reaches out to pet the head, the little ferret reaches out to nip at him. I giggle, and James looks annoyed.

“Dad, _it_ bit me!”

Dad picks up his finger and investigates it. “You’ll live James,” he chuckles. “So...to the owls, Al?”

I cuddle the ferret in my grip, shaking my head. “Dad, do I _have_ to get an owl?”

“Well…no, I suppose. Hermione had a cat, Crookshanks, and Uncle Ron had a rat, Scabbers.” He shivers at that mention. “Your Uncle Neville had a toad. Owls are most common, but you don’t have to have one.”

“Can I get him?”

“The ferret?”

“Yeah! _Please_ Dad, please, please _please!”_ I jump on my feet, cuddling at the creature as I jump. He seems content in sleeping in the crook of my arm.

“I guess so.” He smiles down at the ferret. “Your Uncle Ron is going to be in _fits_ over this,” he laughs to himself.

“How come? Is it like when I showed him Little Ronnie?” Little Ronnie was an orange coloured spider I found in the garden once. I was going to give it to my Uncle Ron as a pet, but he didn’t like that idea _at all_. Both him and Rosie screamed.

“No, no. It’s a school joke. Trust me, he’ll love him.”

The shopkeeper wraps a cage and a new box charmed with air for him. When we arrive outside to meet Mum and Lily, she smiles. “Did you finally get your owl?”

“Can I see? Can I see?” Lily jumps up and down.

“He’s not an owl.”

“Oh?”

Dad chuckles. He has a fist to his mouth to stop himself from laughing. “Al saw the ferrets. He fell in love.”

“A ferret?” Mum’s own smile is one of amusement.

“A ferret,” Dad repeats.

“Ron is going to be in fits. Speaking of…” Mum looks over as Rosie is proudly holding her own wand with confidence. She’s already wrapped in her robe.

“Can’t get the thing off her. Already asked me for top of the line broom. We’re getting an owl next. You already get one, Al?”

Dad smiles, holding back laughter. He leans in to whisper something in my uncle’s ear. “You don’t say…” A coy smile appears on his lips. “Albus, name him Draco.”

“Draco?” I repeat the name.

“A kid in our year was once turned in to a ferret by a teacher. He was being naughty. Name your ferret Draco,” Dad urges.

“Okay,” I reply, peering at my box. “Hi Draco,” I say softly. “You’re gonna be my friend. I’m going to be yours.”

Dad looks over at Mum, but doesn’t say anything.

The night before I leave for the train, Mum is sticking things in the trunk. “What else do you need to bring Al? We’ve got robes, your hat, some clothes, books, supplies…Hooty?”

I look at my plush owl. A lump forms in my throat. “What if people laugh at me for having him?”

“No one will, Al. I promise. Everyone will have something for comfort believe me. Do you want a photo of us?”

I look at my trunk, then at my mum. I slowly nod my head and she goes to kiss the top of it. “I can’t believe my baby boy is going to Hogwarts.” She wipes at her eyes. I catch notice of her tears.

“Mummy,” I say quietly. “I don’t _have_ to go.”

“Albie,” she whispers to me. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be fine. Remember how you didn’t think you’d make any friends in primary, but then you did?”

“But it took me _six years_ to make friends. What if I don’t?”

“You will, Sweetie. Everyone will see that nice haircut Teddy gave you and _want_ to be your friend. Then they’ll want to know just _who_ that handsome little Albie is. You’ll be okay. Daddy and I are only a letter away. Now let’s get ready for bed, okay?”

The car ride to the station is the worst. James is picking on me, calling me _hissy_ _snake_ and poking me. Dad has already yelled at him enough, Mum too.

“Daddy, when do _I_ get to go?” Lily asks, bouncing on her feet. Her red hair bounces as she does so. “I want to go, too!”

“Two more years, Poppet.” He taps her nose. She goes to sit on James’ trolley as Dad holds my shoulder.

“Best to do it in a run. Come on.” In a push, I find myself on the platform. The first thing I notice, much like every other year, is how loud it is. I hate it. I hate the sounds and the sights. I don’t _want_ to go on the train.

“Oh, there’s Freddie! By Dad! Bye Snake!”

“James—“Dad shouts, but my brother goes to get lost in the crowd.

The train whistles once more, and I feel myself get more tense. “Daddy,” I whisper.

Dad pulls me aside and kneels on the ground. Green eyes meet mine. “Albus Severus Potter,” he says clearly and seriously. “You were named after two of the most _bravest_ people I knew.”

“But James says I’m a Slytherin! What if--?”

Dad reaches to put his hand on my shoulder. “If you do, then Slytherin will gain an _excellent_ member. But you know, you do have a choice.”

I had never heard that. “How? James said we had to fight _dragons_.”

Dad pinches at his nose. “Oh, I’m going to have a chat with your brother. You try on a hat. You can choose to not be in Slytherin. You do have a choice. The hat does take yours in to consideration.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now run along, don’t want to miss the train.”

“We _don’t_ ,” Rose huffs, grabbing at my arm. “We need to make choices!”

“Choices?”

“Friends silly. We’re Rose Granger-Weasley and Albus Potter. Our dads and mums were _famous_. They’ll want to be our friend! We should go one by one and rate each person, then decide whom we’ll befriend! It’s all a part of _my_ plan.” She puffs her chest out, her new robe already on. “Come on!” She practically tugs my arm out my socket.

We pass compartments of people, many of them eager to befriend us. Most of them are excited just with who we are. When we get to the one of the end, we open it up and inside is an obvious first year, with bright blond hair. Everything about the other makes me want to befriend him. I want this boy to be my friend, to sit with him on the train.

“Oh,” Rose says quietly. “Al, we-we should probably go…”

“Why?”

“It’s because of me,” the blond boy says, putting his book down.

“Why?” I repeat.”

“Albus,” Rose urges, tugging on my arm.

“I’ll save you the long explanation. My parents and yours were on opposite sides of the war.”

“So?”

“ _So_ , rumors say _his_ parents had him with _you know who_. The dark lord,” she stresses. My heart flops, and I know the fear of being called the next dark lord. When I was younger, I remember my dad hearing the joke that _I_ could be the next one, all because I had trouble with people and social skills. “Let’s go,” Rose whispers loudly to me.

“I don’t want to. Look, he has _candy_. I’m sure he’s not evil.”

“Albus,” Rose whispers, tutting. “Come _on_.”

“You can go.” I turn my head to my cousin, giving her my most stubborn look.

“If you stay, I’m _not_ coming back.” She puts her hand on her hip, glaring.

“Fine.” I watch as Rose leaves the compartment.

“That was brave of you. I’m Albus,” the blond boy says, then covers his mouth. “I mean _I’m_ Scorpius, you’re Albus. Thank you for staying.”

“I’m not staying for you; it’s for your sweets,” I tease.

He smiles, popping a pepper imp in to his mouth. “THANK YOU FOR STAYING FOR MY SWEETS ALBUS! Is it—is it Al or Albus?”

I think for a moment. “Albus, or Albie.”

“THANK YOU FOR STAYING FOR MY SWEETS ALBUS!” I laugh again, putting another candy in my mouth.

“Are you nervous?” I ask Scorpius, putting an ever flavour bean in to my mouth.

“About the sorting? A little bit. Dad-Dad is sure I’m going to be in Slytherin, just like my father and mother and everyone in my family.” My eyes widen. “What about you?”

“I _don’t_ want to end up in Slytherin,” I tell him. He doesn’t seem upset about my declaration.

“I get it.” He nods. “Being with your family. But can we still be friends?”

I nod my head. “Yeah.”

“Neat! I’ve never hand a friend before!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave any comments below!
> 
> Next week starts Hogwarts officially.
> 
> As always check out my writing [tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com) !


	5. Influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus doesn't take well to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, Albie's Hogwarts beginnings! Thank you all so much for your kind responses, especially after having a not so kind week.

I hate Hogwarts.

Let it be known, that I, Albus Severus Potter, _hate hate hate_ Hogwarts. I hate the school, and I _hate_ my house, and my teachers. I didn’t get put in Gyrffindor. No, the stupid hat didn’t even have Gryffindor as a _top_ choice. Instead, the hat told me that if I weren’t going to be in Slytherin, then I might do okay in _Hufflepuff_.

The hat told me that I would do well in Slytherin where I could _be more than my name. I could do well in Slytherin_. I told the hat I didn’t want to be in Slytherin, that I needed to be in Gryffindor like my family. The hat laughed, telling me that Gryffindor would only make things worse. I’d be _just another Potter_ _in Gryffindor_ but if not Slytherin, then _Hufflepuff may work out for you_.

The night of my sorting I arrived to a package on my bed. It was a gift from my Gran with a scarf inside, only the colours were yellow and black. She had assumed that I was going to be a Hufflepuff, too. I took the box and threw it against the wall upset, not bothering to even try and finish my dinner. Instead, all I could focus on was my stupid sorting and the stupid hat.

When I got sorted the hall went silent. My cousin Rose stood up, confused, and my brother just _stared_. No one could believe that I wasn’t going to be joining them in Gryffindor. Since then, I hadn’t stepped foot in the Great Hall, nor did I try and see others.

The nice boy, Scorpius, was the only one who tried to be nice. All the other kids in my year laughed at me, as did the older kids, too. I had quickly become the laughing stock of Slytherin house, earning myself the nickname of _Crybaby Slytherin_.

No matter how hard I tried to stop, I couldn’t stop crying. I missed Mum, I missed Dad, and I missed _home_. I didn’t want to ever come back. Scorpius tried to cheer me up by saying that we had classes starting soon, but even my classes weren’t going to help.

I thought because Dad was Dad, and Mum was Mum, I’d have some sort of magic ability. My first bit of magic was when I was four, so I was sure I’d be okay. But in my first class of the day, everyone waved their wands to perform the basic charm, and mine messed up. My feather _exploded_ , which the professor just chuckled and handed me a new one.

The same thing happened in my other classes as well. Even flying didn’t go as planned, with my broom not responding. Frustrated, I kicked the broom hard, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t fly, I couldn’t do magic, and I wasn’t good at school.

My friend wasn’t doing the best socially, but he was doing okay academically. When we returned from classes that first Friday, I didn’t want to speak to him, not to anyone. So I jumped on the bed and pulled my little owl from the clutches of my trunk. I was so mad.

Gripping him tightly, I let my tears stain his plush wings, just as they had done in my younger years. I gave him a tight squeeze, then quickly put him away when I noticed someone was watching. I already was the crybaby Slytherin _and_ Slytherin Squib. I didn’t need to be considered as anything else.

“It’s okay you know,” Scorpius says to me when he sees my white owl. “To bring something from home. Everyone does it.” He points at the trunk peering out his own trunk. “This is Elma. Elma the Elephant.”

“Hooty,” I say, holding my little owl out. Scorpius smiles, going to reach over and pet my beloved toy gently.

“Hooty, this is Elma. Elma, Hooty.” He faces the two toys near each other. “Together, they can be friends too.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

I wish first year had something good happen, but aside from Scorpius, there was none. We both got picked on a lot by bullies, so much so that when end of year came, my nickname was the strongest it had ever been. Most hardly knew my name, calling me Slytherin Squib, Crybaby Slytherin, and friend of Mouldyvoldy. Nothing was going good for us.

“Maybe I can see you during the holidays?” I ask my friend, eager to pack for the upcoming vacation.

“I’ll have to see,” he says quietly. “My mum is kind of not feeling very good lately. If she’s up to visitors, I’ll send you an owl.”

“Okay.”

When I returned home that summer, I received owls from Scorpius, but none confirming that I could come over. He too, couldn’t come over here for a visit, nor did Dad even bring up the idea. It turns out Dad wasn’t the fondest of my new friendship. Even with Uncle Neville trying to convince him that Scorpius isn’t a bad kid, Dad feels more inclined to believe the ministry rumors.

When the letters for year two come, James snatches his. “Year _four_. Finally, I’m no longer an ickle younger year. I’m a fourth year, same year you were during the tournament! D’you reckon they’ll be another one, Dad?”

Dad chuckles. “Not in a million years, James. Hey, why don’t we get your supplies today? It’ll be fun, just us guys. What do you say, Al?”

“My name’s Albus,” I remind my father. He looks at me and inhales, then nods once more.

“Well _Albus_ ,” he stresses my full name. “Do you want to get your supplies today? It’ll be fun. I’ll even take you both to Quality Quidditch _and_ ice cream.”

“Really?” James no doubt is excited about the proposition.

“No thanks,” I mumble. I don’t want to go back, nor do I want to even think about going back. “Maybe later.”

Dad exchanges a glance with my brother. He looks at me, then just shakes his head. “Come on, Albus. Mum is not home, and I don’t want you alone. Let’s go. I’ll even get you ice cream.” I don’t have a choice as I’m forced and dragged to all the shops. While shopping, I come across one of my unkind classmates and cross my arms. Dad doesn’t notice, instead focusing on the broom equipment and gloves.

“Al, look! It’s Goncalo Flores,” he says, pointing at a poster. “Would you like one for your room?”

“I hate him.” The words come out harsh, angry at my father for trying to make things better. I wish he could see how much I hate Hogwarts. I wish he could let me stay home and never go back.

Dad sighs, but forces a smile as we enter the ice cream parlour. “What kind of ice cream do you want, Al?” Dad laughs. “Yes James, I know to get jelly slugs on yours.”

“I hate ice cream. “ I cross my arms and scowl at my father who just sighs again.

“I’ll have Albie’s ice cream, Dad,” James says, smiling sweetly at our father.

***

“I don’t get it Gin, he didn’t even want _ice cream_. He keeps getting moody and broody with me. Everything is I hate _this_ and I hate _that._ I think that kid is a bad influence.”

“Harry,” Mum says quieter. “You know how Albus is. Even James has said he’s been teased some. It’ll get better.”

“Maybe he needs a different friend.”

“Or maybe he’s going through a phase. I’ll talk to him. We have to go see Teddy before school anyway.”

Mum and I are sitting in her muggle van. It’s after one of my yearly checkups. I didn’t get the best report. “Albus, are you doing okay, Sweetheart?” She reaches to tuck some dark hair behind my ear. “You’ve been awfully quiet this summer.”

I shake my head. “Mum, do I need to continue Hogwarts?”

She smooths my hair. “Yes, you’re a wizard, Sweetie. Is everything alright? Are you being treated unkind?”

I shrug my shoulders, but Mum just rubs at them. “Things’ll get better, Sweetie. I promise. But if people are treating you unkind, please tell Uncle Neville, or your head of house. Second year is always better than first year. Trust me.” She smiles kindly at me.

I wish I could have believed her. Scorpius and I reunite on the train in the same compartment as last year. On the platform I make sure to distance myself from Dad, but he just chalks it up to that phase my mum suggested.

When we return, it’s a repeat of first year, only this time it’s not us being sorted. I watch as two of my friends—the Scamander Twins—are sorted. I hope at least one of them would join me, but they both go to Ravenclaw. Scorpius claps along with the rest of the feast, and soon the feast is over and the routine continues.

I barely scraped by my classes, and I can’t pay attention to the professors who are talking about review. Scorpius is busy scribbling down all the answers as a spitball hits the back of his head. There’s a wad of parchment with _Slytherin Squib_ and _Mouldyvoldy_ tossed on our shared desks.

Second year, I’ve decided, is worse than first year.

Scorpius gets an invite this summer, just as he did the last one. He does not take it, instead spending his whole summer at his house. Mum just nods when I stay upset, unwilling to tell me any information she knows. James grabs an ice pop, walking out to the pool.

“Maybe you need better friends. People might start talking _more_.”

Dad listens, but silently nods. “You know, I wouldn’t survive my Hogwarts career without Ron and Hermione. I’m sure if you branch out—“

“Dad, I’ve got Scorpius.” My lips are pressed thin. “He’s all I need.”

Dad doesn’t seem impressed by my statement, and even less impressed on the platform that year when I burn my permission slip. James is a prefect, and he spends every day after receiving his letter wearing the badge around. Every time I want to address him, I have to call him _Prefect James_ and I roll my eyes and scoff.

“You know, maybe your ego should be a little smaller. Like your dick.”

“Albus, you’re one to talk. Maybe you should actually _get_ some friends.” Mum and Dad aren’t around to scold him, so I sulk off to the back of the train where Scorpius and I always sit. Once again, it’s just us, with the second year Scamander twins in the cabin. They don’t stay in there for long, Lysander and Lorcan eager to go to the Ravenclaw compartment that was doing some sort of trivia.

“Do you want to go to do some trivia?” I ask Scorpius.

He sniffles his nose and shakes his head. “No, I don’t feel like trivia.”

“You _always_ feel like trivia. Is everything okay?” Scorpius has his knees perched to his chest. His head is pressed on the top of his knees and he looks sullen, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“My mum,” he whispers.

My heart falls. I forgot Scorpius’ mum was sick. At first I thought she was normal sick, like a head cold, or fever, but Scorpius informed me that she was terminal. “Is she okay?” He shakes his head and I swallow. “How bad?”

“As bad as it can get.” I piece together his wording and my heart falls more.

“Can I do anything?”

“Be there for me? Come to her—“ He doesn’t say the words and I just nod.

“Of course.”

Sitting at the table for the sorting I keep my fingers crossed. “I hope Lily joins us.”

“Potters _never_ end up in Slytherin.” I shoot my best friend a glare. “Besides you, of course.” He corrects himself quickly and we both watch as my little sister is put in to Gryffindor. James is _thrilled_ going to pick her up, spinning her around. Rose hugs her, and my other cousins in the house just grin.

Hugo is sorted, and although I can see Rose’s fingers crossed, Hugo ends up in Hufflepuff. She doesn’t seem too surprised, and just shrugs it off.

“Rose is really pretty,” Scorpius tells me while he eats a bite of his pudding. I’m _starving,_ taking seconds of my food.

“But she’s annoying.”

“But pretty. Maybe she’ll study with me sometime.”

“Rose doesn’t _like_ you like that.”

“There’s always hope. I’ve gotten bigger this summer, Dad says. More defined.” He grins at me.

“Why would you want to date a _girl_?” My nose wrinkles. Scorpius just laughs at me lightly.

“Because Rose isn’t _just_ a girl. She’s _pretty_. I think we have some classes together.”

“What ones?”

“The ones you didn’t sign up for.”

I dread the idea that Scorpius and I will be separated soon. He decided to take classes I didn’t decide to take. I didn’t want Arthmancy or Ancient Runes like he did. I don’t think there’s any sort of benefit I could get. Although, he questions my choice of taking Divination. Dad said the class was hard and I don’t believe him, so I took the class.

I came to realize quickly how much of a benefit having Scorpius was in my class. He helped me with my homework and he helped me with the problems or theories. He always was there to explain things that confused me. Being without him in a class seems _wrong_. I miss him more and more as I sit in divination, confused as ever.

Being without Scorpius _should_ be a way that would make me _want_ to make new friends, but I don’t. I’m still called the Slytherin Squib to those who actively know the name, and very few still call me Albus. When I get back to Scorpius, he just smiles at me.

“I missed you in my classes,” he whispers.

“I did too.”

“But,” he adds. His smile is growing just a little bigger. “Rose is in my class and I’ve got a table _next_ to her. We’re only about a meter apart! I can almost _smell_ her. I think by the end of the year she’ll _have_ to say yes to me. Isn’t that exciting, Albie?” He’s grinning at me larger.

One day Scorpius gets paired with Rose for a class project and he’s more excited than I’ve ever seen him. His eyes are starting to spark more. They spend their free time in the library, working hard on their project. When they present it at the end of term, Scorpius comes bounding in to the dorm.

“We got an O! Me and Rose, we got _top marks_! Can you believe it? It was _so easy_.”

“That’s nice.” I look at my own assignment and sigh. Divination has been kicking my butt lately. “At least the holidays are soon.”

“I-“ Scorpius looks out the castle window and nervously nods. Even though I attended her funeral, I sometimes forget that Scorpius’ mother won’t be around anymore. He doesn’t talk about it a lot. I get an idea in my head when I notice him sitting on the bed, staring at a photograph of his mother.

Quickly, I scratch out a note to my Gran. I know she doesn’t _know_ Scorpius, but she’s kind hearted enough. She knows how to be motherly to anyone who needs a mother, and Scorpius needs the care and attention.

When it comes time for us to start the holidays, Scorpius trudges back to the train. He doesn’t say much, remaining quiet. I hear sniffles as he sits on the train and gazing out the window. “What er, what are you going to do for the holiday?”

Scorpius looks at me, blankly. “Oh. Dad and I are going to Grandmother’s. She doesn’t want Dad to be alone.”

“I um,” I finger the parcel I have in my grip. It’s squishy. “I know this isn’t really you know, _your_ mum, but it is _a_ mum, and um. Here.” I hand him the package and Scorpius carefully tears the strings off.

“A jumper?”

“Gran knit it. She does it for all her family. I mentioned to her how you—well, you know, this year. You needed a little extra comfort. So she made it.”

Scorpius tugs it over his blond hair. “I love it.” He wraps his arms around himself. “Thank you, Albie. It really helps.”

I give him a weak smile. “Glad you like it.”

***

I loathe everything about the holiday. Dad is being obnoxious, but still Dad, Mum is being her usual self, and everyone is acting obnoxious. James is talking _loudly_ about his prefect duties, while Lily is telling _everyone_ about her school year. I remain quiet on the car ride, until James sticks his finger in my ear again.

I kick at the seat in front of me like a child. “Stop!”

“Al, you _really_ need to stop being so brooding. All angry and whiny. Aren’t you thirteen?” He teases, taking that same wet finger and going to twirl it in my hair. I scowl, using my hand to reach over and slap at my brother.

Lily squeals. “Albus! _Stop!_ Mum, Daddy, Albus is hitting!”

“Albus,” Dad says, keeping his eyes on the road. Mum sighs, looking straight ahead. “Don’t hit your brother, or your sister. Just…” Dad sighs. “Go to your room when we get home, okay?”

“Dad, I need to tell you about the quidditch team line up,” James rambles, pleased I got in trouble. I force myself to try and sleep. I don’t even have the window to rest against since I was stuck in the middle.

When we get home, Dad orders me straight to my room. I scowl, stomping up the stairs the entire way. So far, the holiday sucks. Dad comes in my room later, trying to make things better, but failing, just as he always does. He keeps assuming that Scorpius is the reason for my actions, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Scorpius if anything, makes me _better_ not worse. But Dad can’t see behind his name.

I doubt that will ever change.

***

Third years, I’ve come to notice with love are just as love stricken as James can be. The boys are awkwardly hanging around the girls and standing nearby. The only one who seems to be somewhat normal—as normal as he can be, that is—is Scorpius. Scorpius is trying to get Rose to go to the library for more than just studying.

One day when we’re sitting in potions class, I notice that a girl is sitting across the table. She keeps staring at me, awkwardly winking and waving when I look over at her. Her face is red in a blush, and she tosses over a piece of parchment.

Scorpius grins at me as we leave class. “Did you see her, Al? She was _watching_ you! Maybe then we can double with Rose!”

Logically, I do the only thing I know to do in this case and ask her out to eat on Saturday. It’s Valentine’s Day, and for the first time in my life I actually have a date. I don’t know how to dress, or act, or anything, and while I _should_ ask James, I decide instead that I can handle it. It’s _just_ a girl, anyways.

Her nose is upturned when we arrive at Puddifoots in Hogsmeade. She glances over at my clothes. “Well Potter, you clean up nice,” she states. She looks me over, grimacing at my messy hair. “For the most part.” She pats at her own nicely done long blond curls and adjust her decorative hat and smooths at her dress.

When we get to the hostess, I give her my last name, and while I wish that my last name didn’t attract attention, the girl takes pleasure with _Potter, Party of two,_ echoing loudly across the restaurant. She tilts her head up, holding it high.

At our chairs, she makes a noise, and I pull her own chair out, just like my therapist had said boys should do for girls. I know he’s old fashioned, but, it’s all I have to work with. I didn’t think I’d ever date a girl, and I’m going on all instincts I have.

During the lunch, she orders a water and then reads the menu, deciding on what to eat. The waiter comes over, with neatly coiffed hair and his shirt is nicely pressed. I can see the bum outline on the bottom of his pants. My heart starts to pound, and I sweat a little.

“Albus.” There’s a glare from across the table. “Order.”

“Oh.” I watch the boy scratch down her order, giving me a soft wink as he writes. “Um, I’ll have the same?” I question, looking for some help. There’s a nod from the waiter and I nervously take a sip on the water placed in front of me.

“And Amelia says that the pink dress makes my arse look too big, but _I_ told her it was the red….” She rambles, and I don’t pay attention. Instead, I notice how the waiter licks his lips when he pours the water into glasses, and the tiny hop he does when he notices a bump in the ground. He has a slight blush on his cheeks. “Albus!” She shouts again, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “Our foods here. Ugh.”

I look down at what I ordered. It isn’t _anything_ good. It’s the driest salad I’ve ever tasted, and my mouth _needs_ more moisture. I poke at the dry leaves and stab my fork in to the carrot sliver that is hiding. Whatshername is chattering more about something someone said or whatever, I don’t know since I’m not paying attention.

“Dessert?” The waiter asks, smiling as he notices that she finished the plate.

“Of course.” She grins at him, frowning as soon as he leaves. “That was _horrible_ service. I’m so glad I’m with _quality_ ,” she says.

“What?”

“Boys.” She shakes her head.

The waiter brings out the cheque and I know I haven’t done the dating thing before, but I take the cheque. She notices me slip in some coins and stands up, a little more forcefully. “Albus, what are you _doing_?” She states. She places a hand on her hip against the bright white dress.

“Paying…?”

“Why?” Her nose wrinkles when she says that.

“Because you’re supposed to?”

“Not _you_. You’re a _Potter._ Your father _saved_ the wizarding world. _Why_ should you _pay_?” I shrug. “You should be getting the meal _free_. If I would have _known_ this, I wouldn’t have gone _out_ with you. Potters shouldn’t have to _pay_. You’re so stupid!” She stands up a little taller. “Ugh, if we’re not getting it _free_ I _don’t_ want it. You’re so _obnoxious_. Like I’d _actually_ go out with you if you weren’t Harry Potter’s son.” She huffs, standing up, going to dump the remains of her water on me. She places her hands on her hips as she finishes the last bit, going to leave. The waiter comes over to me with a small smile.

“Mister Potter?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Don’t take it too hard, kid.” He pats my shoulder and winks at me.

I run back to the dorm. I don’t stop. I jump to my bed and bury my face in my pillow. Scorpius glances at me as I jump to my bed. “Albie?” He asks, concerned. “Albie, what’s wrong?”

“Girls,” I say, huffing. I press my face to the pillow harder.

I never want to date a girl again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! As always, please feel free to check out my writing tumblr: spacerockwriting!
> 
> See you next week! xx


	6. No Luck or Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus makes new discoveries about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter!! Thank you all so much for your positive responses <3

I realize after my date that I don’t think I’d ever want to be with a girl again. Girls, I decided, were too much work. Plus, that waiter kept winking at me during lunch and he made me feel the way most of the boys said that the girls in class made them feel. Girls were just not very appealing.

When I got home that summer, Teddy was grinning ear to ear as he greeted us. His smile was wide and proud, ruffling my and James’ hair before taking his seat at the dinner table. He was eating Dad’s dinner, complimenting him and offering help with the dishes. According to Mum, he was over a lot that year, just helping around the house.

“Nan would really like some of your pasta Uncle Harry. Thanks for helping me fix up my shop.” He grins, helping with the dishes. Wand tucked behind his ear, he removes it and waves it, charming the dishes clean. “It’s so great to finally have my own shop.”

“Of course, Ted,” Dad replies, scooping some pasta on to his plate. “Anything for you. James, how were you OWLS?”

“Easy, Dad. My OWLS weren’t as bad as some thought. Pretty sure I got mostly O’s. History of magic might be an A.”

“I’ve had a hard time with Binns too,” Dad responds. “Al, how are your grades?” I scowl as I stab at my pasta. Annoyed, I shove my chair in to the table and head upstairs. Dad sighs. “He’s been so difficult lately.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Teddy says, following me to my room. I go sit on my bed as Teddy lets himself in. He doesn’t bother to knock and sits next to me, waving his wand to shut the door. “Everything alright, Albie?” Teddy asks, his hair changing to a lighter blue. I don’t speak and instead shrug my shoulders. He sighs, and his hair changes back to the darker blue it was. “Was school bad?”

I bite at my lip and chew on it. “I went on a date,” I confess to Teddy.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “She dumped water on me.”

Teddy doesn’t let out a low whistle like James would. “How come?”

“I paid for her meal.”

Teddy just places a hand on my shoulder. “You shouldn’t date people who aren’t kind to you. Sometimes, people might want to befriend you only to get close to James, or your Dad. Maybe you should do something else to get your mind off of things,” he said kindly. “Although,” he lightly chuckles. “I know it’s hard for fourteen year olds,” he teases me, going to ruffle at my messy hair.

I chew at my lip. “Teddy, I don’t think I liked it.”

He smiles kindly. “Don’t think you liked what? The date?”

I nod. “I liked the waiter.”

“Was she cute?”

“He had a nice bum.”

Teddy’s brow crinkles. He smiles. “You know, Albus, its okay if you think his bum is nice. “ The corners of his mouth trickles up. “Or if you think he’s handsome. Do you think you’d like to maybe go with me tomorrow? I’ll ask your dad and mum, but I’m sure they’ll let you come spend the day with me.”

For the first time that summer, my eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Spend some time away for a bit. Maybe trim that mop,” he teases, ruffling my hair harder. It sticks up from his ruffle, my fringe falling over my eye.

Mum lets me floo to visit Teddy the next day. I arrive directly to the floo in front of his shop. She doesn’t even attend with me, although she knows that Teddy would let her know if I didn’t show up. I’m dressed in one of my t-shirts with my favourite wizarding band on it. Teddy smiles when I come in.

“Ready to spend the day, Albie?” He grins. “Thought maybe a change of pace would help. Maybe we could spend the day, go to the music store, hit some shops, and then grab a bite. How’s that sound?”

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

“Fun, I guess. Mum and Dad didn’t put you up to this, did they? Dad wants me to make new friends.”

“Nope. My idea.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t we start off with getting that hair out your eyes? Might help to see better. Come up, Pal.” He pats the chair, urging me to sit down. “Then we can go to the music store. I heard you’ve been listening to _The Weird Sisters_ lately. Maybe you’d like to get some more albums?” It doesn’t take long for Teddy to finish trimming my hair. “That better?” He asks, ruffling my floppy hair back to place. It falls back to how Teddy had cut it before school started. I nod. “Want to go see the music store?”

“Do you have clients today?”

“Nah. I’m free all day.” He gives me a little smile, causing my face to redden. “Do you want to see the music store now?” He asks, going to wave his wand to clean his shop. “Maybe get a new album? Our mums used to listen to _The Weird Sisters_ together. You know, I was about fourteen when I got interested in music, too. If you want, you can have my old guitar. I don’t play it anymore. I know I taught you a few chords when you were younger, but you can have it now.”

I quirk my head. “How did you know I wanted to play guitar?”

“I had a feeling. I thought maybe you’d enjoy having something else to put your mind on, and I taught you some chords when you were younger.”

I follow Teddy from out his new shop in Diagon Alley. We go to the music store browsing through all the different vinyls. My heart thumps when I pick up a new one, going to put on the headphones to listen to the sample of the album. It’s heavy, just like the music that I prefer. The drums are hitting hard and when Teddy notices the album in hand, he chuckles.

“Thought maybe you’d enjoy them. _Firewhiskeys Revenge_ sounds like the type of music you’d enjoy, going off that old _Nirvana_ shirt you wore so much when you were younger. I’m surprised you haven’t been to more muggle music stores.”

“Dad doesn’t really want me to go.”

“I see. Do you maybe want more albums, Al? There’s more than just them you know.” I go and pick out a few more vinyl to add to my collection. Some albums only have a few songs I like, some, I like all the songs. I’ve owned a music player for a while now, and I’m excited to be able to put on the new music I’ve been given.

After the music store, Teddy hits up a few boring errand style shops to pick up potion supplies at the apothecary before we go get some snacks. We’re sitting at the table together when Polly Chapman comes over to the table. “ _Oooh_ ,” she sneers. “Look at Squiby Potter out doing his _squibby_ shopping. They letting you shop _alone_ now, Potter? Decent people don’t want to be seen out and about with Harry Potter’s _squib_ son, do they?” She quips, shaking her head from side to side. She laughs haughtily as she walks away.

Teddy frowns. Before he can say anything to her, she is already gone. He reaches to pat at my arm. “Are you okay, Albie?” Teddy asks kindly.

“Fine,” I mumble.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ ,” I snap. Teddy’s hair changes to a darker colour. “Just—leave me alone, okay?”

“Albus,” Teddy says, going to grip my shoulder. “Just because she isn’t very nice to you, doesn’t mean that whatever she says is true. Do you get picked on?”

“Forget it, okay?” I wipe at my eyes quickly. This was humiliating, having Polly try and humiliate me in front of Teddy.

“If you’re sure.” Teddy says, taking up my trash to throw away.

Aside from Polly Chapman ruining my day with Teddy, for the first time that summer things felt like they were going my way. I just wish they would’ve stayed going my way.

In between going back to Teddy’s because he was being so kind and one of the only people who wasn’t being mean that summer, I practiced my guitar when I heard a noise. Creeping to sit on the top step, I see a girl with light blue in her hair and my heart flutters when she talks to me.

It was then when I knew I had to set things right, and then when I knew that I _had_ to make things better.

The day set before Hogwarts Dad tried his hardest to connect with me, just as he normally does every year. This year, he decided on giving us all gifts. He decided on some blanket for me, one that looks old and mouldy. Frowning, I push it away. “No thanks.”

“Al, don’t you want to hear the story behind it? What is-what’s going on with you?” It was the fight I didn’t want to hear, but was the fight that happened. Dad proclaimed how he thought I was too obnoxious to be his son sometimes, telling me how he wished I sometimes wasn’t his child.

My heart sunk to anger as I threw the bottle of love potion on the bed, the blanket absorbing some of the moisture. Dad glares at me as he leaves.

He tries to make things right the next day, but I ignore him. I try to make things right by going back in time and adjusting everything to make the future better, but as with everything, I fail greatly. It was one of the worst decisions of my life, and I hate how Scorpius got dragged along for the ride. While I enjoyed having a friend on the journey, like many things, I fucked up Scorpius, too. I ended up making my best friend more anxious and nervous about stuff I don’t even recall doing, but, had an effect on him regardless. He talked to me about other worlds, how much he missed me, what it’s like to be _truly_ evil.

My heart slumps when he gets punished as well as me, but there’s little I can do.

The headmistress changes her mind about keeping us over the holidays. Before we leave, Scorpius and I exchange our gifts like we normally do, then we sit on the train, both ignoring any pass from the trolley witch.

Once everything had calmed down some from our time travel events, my mind started to wander back to last summer where Teddy and I spent a lot of time together. I keep thinking of when he and I spent the day at the shops, got sweets, and hung around together.

“Scorpius,” I say quietly. He’s sitting on the cushioned seat nibbling on an apple.

“Yeah Albie?”

“I-“ I don’t know how he’ll take the words. What if he doesn’t like it? “I um, I had a crush last summer, I think.”

Scorpius gives me a weak smile. “I know. You liked _her_.”

“Not her,” I add, my cheeks reddening. “Someone else. She was nice because she—“ I shake my head.

“She paid attention to you,” Scorpius finishes for me.

“Yeah…”

“So, who _is_ this mystery girl you liked?”

“Teddy,” my voice cracks at his name.

“As in, your godbrother?”

“Yes…”

“So you like boys.”

I bite at my lip. “And when I went on that date last year, I didn’t really like her. I just thought that was what people did. I thought they just dated people who liked them but she didn’t really like me. I liked the waiter though. He was really nice and his bum was pretty fit.”

Scorpius smiles. “Are you going to tell your family?”

“I think so.”

Scorpius waves to me when we get off the train. He gives me a big hug and wishes me good luck for my coming out to my family.

Dinner that evening is quiet. Dad doesn’t know how to talk to me after the terms events. No one seems to know just what to say. Dishes clank together when I whisper to my family. “Um, I have an announcement…”

Mum puts her fork down and glances at me curiously. “Oh?”

“What is it, Son?” Dad asks.

“I don’t think I like girls,” I say quietly. James puts his fork down and snorts.

“Are we all surprised? I mean, look at his Goncalo Flores obsession and that thing with Myron Wagtail.”

“James! Al, don’t feel your need to label yourself.”

“No, Dad, really. I am.”

“Al—“

“Dad,” James says. “Can I tell you about my match?”

James starts talking as I excuse myself. Mum comes over to rub my back when she notices I flop to the sofa face first.

“Al,” Mum says sweetly, stroking my hair. “It’s okay if you are. No one’s doubting you.”

“Dad is.”

“Your father is just still recovering. Not that it’s an excuse.”

“You guys didn’t seemed shocked or anything.”

Mum smiles. “Albie, you’ve never really _liked_ being around girls. Even when you were younger, there were always problems with the females who were playmates.”

“I just thought maybe you’d guys be surprised.”

Mum tucks my hair behind my ear. “Mums know things, sweetie. I’m not going to say anything else about it. You’re always going to be my ickle Albie. Gay, straight, bisexual, it doesn’t matter to me what you identify as. I love you.” She rubs my back. “Plus, I knew there was a reason you went to Teddy’s so often—other than hanging out. You hate haircuts, and three in one summer? Goodness. That’s a bit much, even if you have a sudden change of heart.”

I didn’t come out at my Gran’s. I just didn’t feel the need to. Most of my relatives were still talking about last term, and the horrible encounter I had. Dad doesn’t dare comment to anybody about what happens, nor does he want any reminders of what happened.

School was different in the final term of fourth year. My teasing upped some, people laughing at poking fun at me. Word had gotten around about my preference, which caused Scorpius to get upset.

“They shouldn’t pick on you for being gay. That’s homophobic. Plenty of wizards are gay and they’re _great_.”

“If it’s not being gay, it’ll be for being a squib, or my usual dumb self. At least it’s new.”

“All I’m saying Albie, is maybe we should tell someone about what they’re doing.” We take seats in class together, side by side. We don’t have to be separated anymore, which is great. “It isn’t right.”

“Who cares,” I whisper back. “Shit, does that say 390 or 380?”

“388. Are you alright, can you see Albie?”

“Fine. I just have a headache.”

Scorpius tuts, but lets it go.

As we get farther in to the term, my eyes start to feel more blurry. Words are starting to not make sense, and sentences seem unfinished. Scorpius suggests maybe I need to get my eyes checked, but still helps me with my notes in the classes we share.

In the classes we don’t share, my notes are horrible, words messily strung together in the best depiction I can muster. I know my eyes are getting worse. After all, it was only a matter of time before my eyes caught up to my fathers.

I squint and rub at my eyes, going to force myself to see clearly. “I finally wrote Mum and Dad again.”

“Can they even understand it?” Scorpius teases. “I didn’t spell check this time.”

“They said you can come over this summer.”

“Really?” Scorpius eyes widen as he grins so big. “After everything that happened? I can?”

“Yeah. Dad even agreed to it.”

“He did? I thought he hated me!”

“Mum talked to him. She thinks a few nights won’t hurt.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Scorpius’ voice is eager, running off to write his father for permission.

The end of the school year couldn’t come fast enough. I have a feeling this will be an interesting summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments if you'd like! As always, you can always reach me at my writing tumblr: spacerockwriting


	7. Tripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer before year 5 starts the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are! Nearing the real meat of the fic! It's the calm before the storm!

If I thought that year four was adventurous and changed my life, year five was the year that changed _me._ When I got off that train after fourth year, the first thing Dad did was envelope me in a very large hug. The hug was almost as tight as the hug he gave me when he found me alive after mine and Scorpius’ time travels. He patted at my shoulders and gave me the most friendly smile he could muster up.

The ride home was one of awkward silence. Dad and I were still trying to repair our relationship from the previous year, and Mum was still uncertain about with how to react to the events of last year. When I got home, I could see that my room was freshly made up and cleaned just how I liked. Mum had even reorganized my nest area for me, making it as comfy as possible.

I had only been home three days when the grades came from Hogwarts. I had done okay in my classes, but another note came along with my grades. My dad read over the note, chuckled, then passed the note to Mum. There was a mutual look at them, then at me.

I already knew what the note was going to be about. During the last term of my classes, Scorpius had been helping me with my notes. The board was getting fuzzier, and doing my homework often gave me headaches. My headaches were getting worse, sometimes creating migraines. Since the schoolwork was starting to bother me, Scorpius had offered to help, reading me the words off the board and entries from our textbooks. In the classes we shared, he’d quietly scribe for me my work.

“Al,” Dad chuckles. “I think we need to take a trip to the muggle eye doctor.” He grins at me, although my look is one that is not pleasant in return. I do _not_ want to wear glasses, nor do I want _anything_ that makes me appear like my father. “I’ll set you up an appointment for later this week,” he adds.

“And a haircut,” Mum adds from behind dad. She reaches to stroke my hair, smiling as she pushes the strands back from my face. “That’ll help your eyes, too, Albie.”

I scowl at both my parents, arms crossed over my chest.

Mum just laughs.

The afternoon I’m supposed to get my glasses, Dad decides to take me. He thought maybe it’d be something we could bond over. Throughout the whole car ride, he keeps telling me about stories and pulling his every bit of attempt at connecting with me. I fold my arms and sit cross with him the whole trip and through the visitation as well. When I read the chart, the doctor just lets out soft hums and nods, then turns to Dad and nods.

“His eyes are pretty bad. Nothing glasses can’t fix. Daily use, _especially_ reading.” He squirts some of the solution in my eyes and then I can’t see for the remainder of my visit. “Just go and choose the frames you like,” he says, chuckling and handing my dad over a slip of paper.

I end up picking out some thick black frames. They’re thick and heavy looking but they’re nothing like the spectacles that my father has. I scowl as I am forced to wear them on the trip home. When I enter the house, Mum just smiles, and James starts laughing.

“Al,” he says laughter loud. “You’re such a _nerd_.” Lily elbows him and tries to compliment me.

“ _I_ think they look fashionable.”

James laughs again, as if the concept of fashion and me are two opposites. I shoot my brother a glare, and Dad gives James a look. “Don’t pick on your brother, James,” he warns.

I decide when I get in my room that I detest the ruddy things and toss them on my desk, going to write Scorpius a letter. We’ve only been apart for a few weeks, and I’m already dying to see him. Quill to parchment, I hastily write my letter.

_Scor,_

_It’s been two weeks and I hate it. James has been so obnoxious. Dad made me get glasses and I hate them They’re so ugly. Can you come this summer, please?_

_Albie_

I tie the parchment off to my family’s owl and spend the majority of the summer sulking by our family’s pool. Every time an owl swoops in to my house, I almost expect it to be Scorpius’. So far, it hasn’t been his owl.

I’m sitting on my bed working on my schoolwork when an owl flies to my window, pecking on it. I read the print and grin. My best friend is going to be my saving grace this summer. At least—I hope.

_Albie,_

_Sorry James is being obnoxious. Dad has been a lot better lately. He and I have really started to bond over things that aren’t quidditch. Turns out, Dad can be a bit of a nerd, too! I bet you look very distinguished in glasses. And finally it must be so great to see clear!!_

_I do not know if I can come to visit this summer, but we may be able to meet up for shopping! Oh, and I owled Rose too, and she even wrote me back!! Malfoy the Unanxious is back at it again! Soon, I’ll be Mister Rose Granger-Weasley! Or is it Malfoy..? I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself._

_Have you started your homework yet? I’ve nearly finished all but defense. I just can’t bring myself to do spells that **she** did. It just doesn’t seem right. I know it’s only writing about the spells in theory since we can’t do magic out of school, but the reasons still stand. By the way, do you get nightmares anymore? Or was it just me…_

_I hope all is well and I can’t wait to see you!!_

_Scorpius_

I don’t bother to push in my desk chair and hurry down the stairs. The first person I see is Mum, and she’s most likely the person to allow me to hang around with Scorpius. ”Mum!” I cry out to her. “Mum,” I repeat. “Can I see Scorpius this summer? _Please_?” I plead, desperate for her to say yes. Mum is busy buttering a piece of bread by hand.

“If his father will allow. And Al,” she replies with a knowing look. “Please wear your glasses, dear.”

“So I can see Scorpius this summer?”

“We’ll see,” Mum adds. “Perhaps when we get our things. You like him a lot, don’t you?” Mum asks, small hint in her voice.

I scowl. “Well, _duh_ , Mum, he’s my best friend!”

Mum chuckles. “Oh Al,” she says fondly. “Why don’t you owl him and ask if the two of you can meet up? If Draco says yes, then I don’t see why not.” She hums. Mum goes back to working in the kitchen and I dart back upstairs. I already sent Scorpius the letter asking if we can meet up, but regardless I send another.

_Scor,_

_Mum said if your dad says yes we can meet up. Please have him say yes. If I have to shop just Dad and me, I will go mental. Dad has tried all to bond with me all summer. Everything from our glasses to trying to make up for what he said last year. I know he’s trying, but it doesn’t fix everything._

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Albie_

I tie the letter off and send it to Scorpius, but I don’t hear from him as shortly as I wished. Instead, my summer lulls on, me doing my best to stay away from my family. When Mum wakes me up early one morning, I let out a loud groan. I already know what the event of the day is. It’s two things that I dread the most: therapy and a haircut. Mum has mentioned countless of times that my hair was getting way too long for her taste, and it would be best to get a cut before we have to go to Gran’s in the upcoming week.

I get an owl before I’m about to head out to my appointments.

_Albie_

_Sorry it took me a bit longer to write. Dad and I have been busy visiting with my relatives. My Greengrass relatives unexpectedly made a reappearance because of Mum, and then we went on holiday with Dad’s side of the family. I know I said I loved museums, but high society pureblood centered ones are not my forte. My Malfoy grandparents had spent time trying to educate me on pureblood etiquette, saying my mother didn’t do a proper job. That set Dad off, and then we had silence for the rest of the trip._

_Grandfather is trying to persuade Dad that I should start looking for a proper young women who bears a wealthy name and background to start courting. He said it’s a shame that Delphi went to Azkaban and my body froze and Grandmother actually told him off! Can you believe that? I told Grandfather I had a girl in mind-Rose- but he laughed and said Weasleys have no place in the Malfoy line. Dad grimaced, his knuckles turning white and being too proper to tell Grandfather off. He said that I will be able to date whomever when I feel its my time. Grandfather sorted, said Mum made me soft and then Grandmother apologized and made them leave!_

_I wish we could go shopping together. Dad said not this year, since we already bought my materials with the help of my grandparents. Hopefully we can go shopping together some other time. What about Hogsmeade? We should go together this year again!_

_Scorpius_

“Albus, you’ll be late!” Mum calls from downstairs. I sigh, running a hand through my knotty hair and trudge down the stairs. Mum just shakes her head, urging me to get in the car. The ride to my therapist is boring and silent, Mum driving and me sitting in the passenger’s seat with my arm crossed.

I am the oldest one in the waiting room. Young children are sitting on the floor playing with some of the toys and games left out. One of the children are colouring with crayons and one is sobbing into their mother’s chest. Mum is ticking off some answers on a form, lips pressed together and humming as she does so.

I don’t have to go as often as I used to, just a check in every summer holiday. I do have to tell him about last year with Delphi and Scorpius and my dad and I having a fight. I don’t like having to relive the memory at all. He just nods as I speak, writing words down on his clipboard.

After the session, I trudge back to the muggle minivan and Mum drives back to our house. “Not so fast, Albie. We’re just picking up your brother and sister. They need cuts, too. You all do. Sit here while I go get them. And your glasses,” she adds with a knowing look. She arrives moments later with my siblings and the thick black frames. “If you don’t keep them on, I’ll have to use a sticking charm.”

James laughs, taking the seat behind me. He sticks his foot out to mess with my seat, kicking it and knocking on it. I turn around, annoyed. “Mum! James is kicking my seat!”

“Mum, I only want a _tiny_ trim,” Lily complains.

“James, knock it off. You know how Albus is after his sessions. Lily, okay, that’s fine.”

“Not fair!” I shout, and Mum rolls her eyes.

“Al, stop. You can’t see with all that hair in your eyes.”

I grump, and James snorts.

Teddy is waiting for us, grin on his face. “If it isn’t my favourite family!” He goes to greet Mum with a hug, then to hug the rest of us. I reluctantly allow him. After my crush on Teddy last summer, he and Scorpius and sometimes Mum and Dad are the only ones I’ll allow hugs from. Gran, too, but she doesn’t give me a choice.

“Where’s Vic?” I tease Teddy. His hair fades from it’s blue to a red state and comes over to playfully knock my shoulder with his hand.

“Cut it Albie,” he teases. “Or I’ll make you bald.”

James bursts out laughing. “Yes, _please_. Do _something_ to that mess.”

Teddy knocks James and shoots him a look. “I can do the same to you, Jamie.” James’ face turns sour and he lets out a scowl.

“Teddy!” Lily jumps up to run and hug him. “I want only a _tiny_ trim. Just a _tiny_ one,” she stresses. “I don’t know why I even need to be here, mine’s not as bad as _theirs_.”

Teddy laughs at my sister and puts a hand on his hip. “Sure thing, Lils. Up and at ‘em, then?” He asks, gesturing her to sit down and get her hair trimmed. Mum looks over at me and ruffles my hair with one hand, making it even messier. James just snorts at my mess of Potter hair.

“Al, don’t you think it’s time you start looking more like a human?” He teases with a smirk. Mum shoots him a look, flipping pages in a magazine.

“At least I don’t look like a stupid prat.”

“Please.” He waves his hand. “You only _wish_ you could look this good. I don’t see people lining up to date _you_.”

“Because I’m not egotistical.”

“Because you only have one friend since you’re shit at—“ James is stopped by Mum with a loud clear of her throat. She gives him a hefty glare, one that indicates he needs to watch the next words he says. He gulps, then looks down at the magazine Mum was looking at. “Well, what do you know,” he chuckles, pointing at a picture. “Harpies has a new reserve. Mum, isn’t it divine?”

“Nice try, James. Apologize to your brother. _Now_.”

“Sorry Al,” James apologizes with a scowl.

I cross my arms over my chest, raising a brow as Lily steps off, grinning wide at Teddy. She twirls in her steps, smiling wide at Mum, flower crown positioned slightly on her head. “It looks great, Teddy! Mum, see!”

“You’ll crush those try outs, Lil,” Teddy says smiling back. “James, or Al?”

“I’ll go before the troll.” James smirks, taking a seat and Teddy frowns, slapping James lightly on the shoulder.

“Be nice. Headboys are _nice_ ,” Teddy hints and James straightens up his chest a little bit. He puffs it out. James has wanted to be Headboy ever since Teddy was in his first year at Hogwarts. He simply won’t accept no for an answer, even willing to pull the _Harry Potter_ card. However, there isn’t anyone else he thinks will get it instead.

“Albie, can I do your hair?”

“ _No_.” Mum looks up again from her magazine. James steps down just a bit longer than Lily, him and Teddy talking and chatting about trivial things like school and NEWTs. When he steps off, he smirks at me, his hair coiffed and tousled in a way that is signature to James Potter.

“Albie?” Teddy calls, and I step over and around my brother’s hair on the floor. He smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The usual?” He asks, knowing that I’ve always had the same floppy hairstyle as my older brother. It started with the first time Teddy ever cut my hair, and I’ve kept it the same ever since. It was way better than any sort of cut Gran would give me.

“I-“ Teddy starts to pin my hair, sectioning pieces off. “Teddy, remember those boys in the rockstar posters we saw?”

Teddy pauses. ”Yeah, what about them?”

“They’re cool. I wish I was cool like them.” Teddy smiles at me, going to bend closer to my level.

“Why can’t you be? I’ve heard you play on guitar. You can play a mean riff. You _are_ cool like them, Al. You’re not some dumb kid, no matter what James says. How about this: what if _I_ make you look cooler?”

“But my hairs _hopeless_. It’s just dumb Potter hair. No one can tame it.”

Teddy only smiles. “No, I think I can fix it so it looks like those posters. Long fringes, messy layers. It might be a bit shorter at first, but you’ll get used to it.” He spins his scissors around his thumb. “What do you say?”

“What if it looks bad?”

“Hair grows out, Al. And you’re a Potter, so, it grows rather quick. It’ll be fine. If you don’t like it, we can fix it back to how you have it. Okay?”

I bite at my lip. “Okay.”

“Great!”

Teddy takes his shears and starts cutting, pieces falling down and sections being pinned at different angles. He works on a sweeping motion as he cuts, directing pieces to fall in messy chunks around my face. When he stop cutting with the shears, he takes some potion and rubs it all through my hair, ruffling it so it looks purposely messy.

“There,” Teddy says, proud of himself. “You look like a little rockstar if I do say so myself.”

“I do?”

“Go and look.” Teddy turns me to the mirror.

“Woah.” I reach my hand to the back, feeling the softness of the short strands. Then I touch the sides as well, small grin forming on my face. “Wow,” I repeat.

Teddy is proud of himself. “Like it? A little bit better than before, eh?”

“It’s great. I _really_ look like Myron Wagtail!”

Teddy chuckles. “Well, if he were fourteen.”

“Fifteen,” I correct. “I’m fifteen.”

“Ah, so you are.” He laughs, ruffling at my hair. I reach my hands up to fix my hair, a first I never really cared to do when it was my old hairstyle that matched my brother’s. Teddy gives me a small smile as he notices me fix my hair. “Don’t break too many hearts, Albie,” he teases.

Mum notices that I did something different with my hair and grins over at me. “That’s different,” she hums, amused at my change of pace. “Suits you well, Albie.”

“It makes you look gay,” James teases. I roll my eyes.

“I _am_ gay, thank you very much.”

Lily snorts.

Mum waves to Teddy, practically forcing us out the door and back outside of Diagon Alley to the carpark. “We’ve got to visit your Gran tonight. Partly why I thought you’d all might enjoy a visit to Teddy’s. Mum can be rather persistent about you lots appearances. When we get home, I want you all to change in to nice clothes. No holes, no obscenities, _normal_.”

“She means you, Al.” James snickers.

I give my brother a two finger salute and he mouths something under his breath. Mum keeps lecturing us once again about what _not_ to do at Gran’s, as if we’d have never been there before.

If I have never mentioned it before, I really dislike Gran’s parties. Her parties are loud and my cousins are obnoxious. Most of the time I’m stuck with the younger cousins, despite being on the older side of things. Even Lily, who is younger, can get away with being with older cousins simply because she’s a girl.

I’m sulking on the couch, bottle of butterbeer beside me when my Uncle Percy comes to sit beside me. He notices my long fringe and dark clothes, raising a brow, but not commenting. “Are you excited for school, Albus? Fifth year,” he chuckles. I shrug my shoulders, then shake my head. “You know, fifth year is a very important year. OWL year, it is. Did you know students who fail their OWLs have a less than fifteen percent chance at getting a successful NEWT career? Have you thought about a NEWT?”

I shrug.

“Rightly so, I heard you had a tough year. How are you now?” I shrug once again and Uncle Percy just nods. “You know Albus, there have been studies that show that children who listen to classical music score higher on tests than those who listen to _other genres_.” He says the word other genres with distaste, as if he knows the band name on my shirt isn’t something he’d like to listen to. “And that students that openly rebel are more likely to fall in to unfortunate situations. All of this could be contributed to low OWL scores. But you’ve always been a strong reader, haven’t you? And an introvert.” He laughs, adjusting his glasses and giving me that forced smile of his. “A bit mischievous but I suppose boys are boys. Well…aside from your little social quirk. By the way, I know of a wizarding therapist who specializes in speech mannerisms. Oh, I’m so sorry, Al. I’ve chatted your ear off!”

Uncle Percy disappears in to the crowd with my other relatives, but that doesn’t stop from his words echoing in to my head. If my OWLs go as horrible as I screwed up last year, then I’d never get good marks, then never get good NEWTs and my life would be over before it even started. My mind wanders and I _knew_ , just _knew_ that this year _had_ to go well.

My future depends on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! As always, feel free to check out my writing tumblr! It's spacerockwriting. I appreciate you guys so much, especially because this has been my highlight in my tough weeks <3


	8. Stumbling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus' determination to make the year better starts to worry Scorpius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much guys for all your love and responses! We're getting to the portion where it starts to get a little dark.

In desperation to get better grades and not become a failure, I went to Dad to have him help me with my patronus. He had offered times before, but I wasn’t that interested. DADA hasn’t been a course that I felt a connection to. After last year, I wanted to keep it at a distance.

But I had heard that a patronus was good bonus credit, and if I could produce a good enough one, then my grades would turn out all right. When I went to ask Dad, he was more than thrilled to accept. He looks near tears at me actually _asking_ him for magic help, instead of going straight to Mum or James.

Wand held in his grip, he stands before me. “All right Al, for a patronus, you have to think of a power memory. A powerful _happy_ memory. You also have to _mean_ your words. What makes a patronus work is the meaning behind it. You have to _believe_ the memory is happy, as well. If not, the spell won’t work. Now, obviously a real dementor is dangerous to have and I’d never subject you to such a creature, so we’ll use one of Lily’s old dolls. Now when I say so, think of your happiest memory and say _expecto patronum_.” Dad thinks a moment, then waves his wand and says the spell. Out from the tip of his wand is a silver stag, one that is happily trotting around room. He beams at me, proud of his work. “Your turn.”

He waits, eyes gazing at my every move. His eyes adjust to how I hold my wand, my footing, and even the way my words lisp at my pronunciation of my spell. Dad’s eyes gain a little crinkle in the corner as he smiles at me with fondness. He chuckles lightly.

“I’ve always loved that little lisp of yours. Reminds me when you were a little guy.” He reaches to ruffle at my hair, laughing even more when I squirm. “So cute, how you’d talk with Hooty in your mouth. Your Gran always had a fit with your chewing. Said it’d create buck teeth and bad habits. Never did stop you.”

Dad smiles. “Try again. I saw a little mist.”

I nod, going to think of a strong memory. Dad watches intensely as I wave my wand and a creature starts to form. It’s too soon to tell what it is, nor formed enough. This time, I think of a stronger memory. I think of Scorpius, of the two of us. I think of him and me, when we decided that we were all we needed. My patronus starts to slip out from my wand once again, and out on to the floor pops a silver creature. The animal is now crawling on the floor and my heart thumps.

“Well, well,” Dad chuckles. “That’s new. I’ve never seen a koala before. Cute.”

“Never?”

Dad shakes his head. “But I suppose there are lots of animals I’ve never seen as a patronus…Al, it’s okay…It’s neat. It’s unique, like you.”

He must notice my disappointment and frowns. “Albus, I think your patronus is rather you.”

I scowl, and let my spell disappear. I vow to not let it show again.

Dad and I don’t do another practice before I go back to school. Dad and I don’t even talk about my patronus at all. In fact, everything regarding our practice remains a secret.

Scorpius isn’t as surprised as I thought about seeing my new haircut on the train. He’s more surprised that I am head deep in to one of the school books assigned for class. He laughs, the happy sound escaping softly from his lips.

“Is that book good?”

I peer up and shake my head. “Terrible. Mandatory for class.”

“Summer reading?”

I shake my head again. “Fall. I thought I’d get a head start.”

Scorpius eyes me over, noticing that I had my glasses on my face as I read. He quirks a smile. “Your glasses must have some smart power in them. Not that you’re _not_ smart, you’ve just never been this in to your studies. Not that you’re _bad_ ,” he rambles.

I cut him off with a laugh. “It’s okay, Scorp. It’s just, OWL year. It’s big, innit?”

“That’s what Dad says. Important test. He says maybe I can work on my anxiety beforehand so I won’t be nervous. But I’m actually more excited than nervous. We get to think of our _careers_. Our Careers, Al! Isn’t that exciting? We get to be like grownups.”

“Right.” I open the book back up and remove the mark from where I was reading. Scorpius grimaces when he notices that my pages are dog-eared. He doesn’t say anything, letting me continue.

“This is the quietest our rides have ever been,” Scorpius says out loud. “I guess if you’re getting ready, I should to. Oh! I forgot! I’m a Prefect! I’ll see you in a bit, Albie! Bye!” I don’t look up as Scorpius vanishes from the compartment. Instead, I stick my quill in my mouth as I scratch down something I think I need to remember.

Scorpius and I don’t talk about last year. Sometimes, I think about asking him, but then I decide not to. I don’t want him to feel like he has to relive any of it. Instead, I like to focus on studying and doing my best to actually get good grades. After last year, I’d hate to be even more a failure. My need for succeed drives me to the library near the late of the night. Scorpius is out. I’ve skipped dinner to study, which I don’t really care for anyways.

In the library I come across a book in the restricted section. It’s a section I’m not supposed to be in, but the book sounds like a good study tool. Scanning quickly, I come across a section on potions and I figure out that if I alter portions of the potion, it can act as a supplement and I can gain more study time. I decide to try and test out the potion, going to create it one evening when Scorpius is doing prefect rounds.

The leaves are simmering when I take the first sip of my potion. It keeps me awake longer than I’ve ever been able to stay up naturally. It would’ve really been useful at all those sleepovers I did as a little kid.

Over the course of the week I work on improving the potion. I readjust the levels and the acidity and balance, carefully adjusting it. After I let it simmer, I try the potion again, this time being able to stay up even later.

It doesn’t take long before I find myself checking on the potion every night. Sometimes I take it, other times I work on perfecting the potion. When I take the potion I find that I’m less hungry, and I find that I’m less likely to sleep. I figure I can use that time instead to gain more study time.

One evening I’m sitting in the dorm hunched over parchment and text when Scorpius frowns. “You weren’t at dinner, Albie. Are you okay?”

I shrug, nibbling on my quill. “I have bars in my bag,” I lie. “Study.”

“Again? You really must want to make good grades,” he chuckles.

“Well, you know what they say,” I reply back. The words of my uncle echo in my head. “OWLs are the most important test in a wizard’s career.” Scorpius blinks at me, but doesn’t say much else.

“Right…Well, if you need me, I’ll be over there, okay?”

“I don’t,” My words come out harsh, harsher than I can recall.

Scorpius eyes me over, confused, but doesn’t respond. “I…okay?” He blinks, rather confused but doesn’t add anything else.

Over the month of progressions I find that I’m more drawn to seclusion. I don’t go to dinner as much, and when I do it’s to eat a tiny bite. When I’m hungry, I take my potion instead, and it creates that temporary satisfactory that eating would bring. The more the term starts to progress, I find myself starting to care more on perfecting that potion. I spend all free time when I’m not studying trying to make it better, trying to make it work. Each sip tastes vile, like lukewarm piss, but I can’t help the craving the potion creates.

One evening, Scorpius looks over at my bed. He notices how junky it looks. While I’ve never been _neat_ , my bed hasn’t had this much in it since ever. I’ve always been able to keep my bed somewhat clean, but this time I’ve neglected to allow any of the elves that clean to come and clean my bed. I don’t want to risk anyone finding my potion, or track my research. The research is thoroughly _mine_ and to have to share it seems absurd.

Scorpius glances and me and sighs, going back to do his own work.

I’ve been up for hours one morning when Scorpius glances over. He frowns, a bit concerned, but again doesn’t speak about that. “Al, I was thinking we should get some ice cream. Want some?” I don’t respond, and Scorpius lets out another defeated sigh. “Albus, are you feeling okay?” He asks, but I don’t reply to that either. Instead, I scratch down some notes and Scorpius grabs his own book and heads to breakfast. He mumbles something about _selfish best friend_ and I want to care, and deep down I do…I think. I think I care about his response, but I can’t be too sure, honestly.

Instead I push him off which leaves Scorpius to look as if he wants to cry. I want to feel bad, I want my _heart_ to hurt about hurting my one and _only_ friend, but instead, I feel myself caring more about keeping my potion safe. I feel myself care more about protecting my potion, making it _better_.

Time slips away from me when I find myself head over heels working on that potion. One minute I’m late for class, and the next it’s the middle of the night. There’s some awkward muffled words as I continue to work on my potion, some other guys in my dorm making noise. As much as I want to tell them to shut the fuck up, I don’t. My mouth deems them unworthy to call out, and instead I force myself into trying to perfect the potion.

My days turn into routine. I wake up, do some class, then come back and work on my potion. Professors have started to announce the signups for the winter holiday. I don’t intend to go home. I know going home will interrupt my hard work. I know I’d have to take time away in order to make appearances with my family, and I don’t want that at all. Instead, I smush some berries I found outside and try adding them to the potion to not make it taste like piss.

I add a pinch of leaves to balance out the taste and something inside starts making me cough. I’m allergic to most plants, but usually when they’re dissolved in potions it doesn’t have an effect on me. I feel my throat starting to close up and Scorpius peers over. His eyes seem to bulge out his head and he starts to panic.

In a dizzying state, I can feel myself being lifted up from my bed with a loud buzzing and tsking sound. He seems to have noticed that my bed was messy and he says the word _Hooty_ with a hurt voice. My throat and chest get tighter as he carries me down the corridors, muttering words and curses under his breath. I’ve never heard him curse like this before.

We’re at the Gryffindor Commons when everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your lovely responses! Unfortunately, I do not think I will be uploading my fic for Scorbus Fest. I had one in mind, but unfortunately, real life went a bit hectic this past month, and work got a bit hectic as well.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support! As always, feel free to check out my[ writing tumblr!](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)


	9. Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The starting line to healing isn't as easy as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all those who've been reading! It's a bit shorter of a chapter, but, we're getting to the real meat of the story here! This chapter does include hospital visits, so warning for those who need that!

I wake up in a hospital room. The room is white, the pillows are fluffed, and everything seem bright. Mum is standing over me, eyes wet. Dad is next to her with a pale look on his face. James is standing beside Lily.

“Albie…” Mum whispers to me. She reaches to stroke at my hair. She winces when she strokes it, going to press a cool cloth to my face. “Honey, are you okay?” She kneels beside me, rubbing her thumb over my cheek.

“Al…” Dad looks at me. He chokes back some words. “Are you….” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

I blink, rubbing at my eyes. “What happened?”

“You took a potion, Sweetie.” Mum stands back as a nurse comes back in.

“Well, lookie who’s awake. How do you feel, Albus?”

“Sleepy…”

“That’s understandable. How else do you feel?” She asks, going to change a tube with her wand.

“Full?” I question. I haven’t felt like I’ve been full in ages.

“Ah,” she points at the tube. “Feeding tube. Your stomach and acidity were off balance. Whatever was in that potion was pretty powerful. Don’t worry, though, you’ll be fine eventually.” She smiles at me. “Just take it easy for a while.”

“Just rest Al.” Mum comes back over to soothe me. She strokes my hair away from my face, mumbling a little as she does so. She kisses my forehead and I fall back asleep.

I sleep a lot when I’m in the hospital. When I’m not up being injected with all sorts of different potions and spells to counteract what I’ve done, I’m usually napping, or being forced to eat small things like pudding or gelatin.

I can’t have visitors on most days. But one of the first visitors aside from my parents are my brother and Teddy. Teddy is holding a traveling case in his hand and grimaces at me.

“Hey Al.” He forces a smile. “Your mum said you were awake right now. Do you mind sitting still for a second, bud?”

My eyes widen and my heart sinks when I recognize what it is that Teddy had brought to me. “No,” I mumble. “No!” I say, my voice a little louder.

“Al,” Teddy reasons softly. Mum has left the room, so has Dad. “It’s almost all fallen out. It’ll grow back. I _promise_.”

I shake my head. James grimaces, looking away. “Teddy, _no_.”

“Albus,” Teddy says a little louder. “It’ll be fine. I _promise_. Trust me.” He doesn’t give me much preparation time and starts to remove his shears, pinning my hair at random portions. He’s mumbling to himself again, while I let out loud sobs.

It feels like hours when it’s only minutes. Teddy takes his time, carefully unpinning portions of my hair and snipping them even with other strands. When he finally gets to my fringe, he pauses. He takes a breath and notices my tears, but chooses to ignore them. After lopping off the last bit of fringe, I shed another stream of tears. My face is vacant, with nothing left to hide behind. Teddy smiles weakly at me, then plants a kiss to my forehead. “You’ll be okay Al. It’s all just steps to healing.” My heart starts pumping more as he waves sadly to me when Mum comes back in and instructs him that I have to do yet another test.

My time in the hospital is spent doing tests, injections, and having little visitors. Aside from family members, the only one who isn’t family that gets to visit is Scorpius. Scorpius looks frightened and aware as he sits beside me.

“Hi.” His voice comes out soft. He stares at me, and I look away nervously. I know he’s taking in my short haircut, my glasses forced on my face, and the horrible hospital gown I’m forced to keep on. “I brought you a gift. Your mum said I can come in.”

“Is that mine?” I look at the small package he’s holding.

Scorpius nods. “Chocolate frogs, your favourite. If you get your dad, you’ll have to trade me,” Scorpius says, and he smiles. “And if you get Newt Scamander, you’ll _have_ to give him to me.”

I tilt my head at my best friend. I like that he’s not making this a big deal. I like that he’s treating me like normal, not commenting on the obvious. When I struggle to open my box, he doesn’t help. Instead, he lets me do it, which I like. Everyone’s been treating me like a baby when it comes to certain things. I like the normalcy that my best friend brings. I rip open the box and pull the card out, frowning.

“Bleh. It’s just another Lockhart card. I’ve got four of them.” I rip off the toe off the frog and put the chocolate in my mouth.

Scorpius opens his own box. “I’ve got fifteen of these,” he laughs, dropping the scowling card of Severus Snape onto the bed. He notices me shake, and raises a brow. “You cold, Albie?” I nod, and Scorpius goes to drape a blanket over me. He gives me a soft smile as I fall back asleep.

I don’t get to spend Christmas at Gran’s. I don’t get to be in my own bed at the holiday. Mum and Dad instead come visit me on the holiday, opening gifts in my room with me before going back home.

When my Aunt Hermione comes to visit, she hands me a rather large package. The package seems heavy, heavier and thicker than most I’ve received. The cards from my relatives line my room with some balloons tied about my bed posts. I force a weak grin.

“I know it’s just a book, but I think you might like it. It’s muggle. But Victor Hugo writes amazing novels and you’ll have a lot of time on your hand.” Uncle Ron stands beside her, suppressing an _I’m sorry_ look. He waits for his wife to leave, before handing me some chocolates and other goods that I’m not really supposed to have in the hospital.

“For some _real_ fun, okay Al?” He winks at me.

Aunt Hermione looks over at me, then at her husband. “Ronald!” She hisses. “Our nephew is in the _hospital_ and all you care about is _fun_?” She frowns, knocking him upside the head and goes back over to Mum and Dad. “Harry, I am _so_ sorry for my _idiot_ husband.” She grits her teeth. “Rose too, she apologizes for any sort of behaviors that could contribute to his stress.”

“Rosie wasn’t the problem, I’m sure.” Dad responds.

Aunt Hermione presses her lips together. Uncle Ron decides to speak. “I heard she and that Malfoy boy were seen together. I’m sure he’s been up to this as well. Probably something his father wanted…” Aunt Hermione scowls at Uncle Ron.

“Ronald,” she warns. “They were paired for a prefect duty and I’m sure he’s a _nice boy_.”

“Nice boy my foot,” Uncle Ron mumbles as they leave the room.

When my aunt and uncle leave the room I fall asleep again. It seems that all I do is sleep and when I’m not doing that, I decide to pick up my book to try and waste time. I find that the book isn’t half bad, and that I actually enjoy it more than I thought.

My reading the book doesn’t stop me, however, from the sinking feeling I get when I start to notice how everyone reacts around me. Those who do visit stay around, nervous that I might do something stupid. They keep a watchful eye on me, only leaving when I fall asleep.

For the first time all term, I really regret what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who've been reading, reviewing, kudos! I appreciate you all!!  
> As always, feel free to check out my writing tumblr: spacerockwriting.


	10. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus starts his road to recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind responses! We've got a bit of a long chapter here! The chapters aregoing to get a bit longer, and a bit more dark. Addiction warnings for those who need them!

When it was time to go back to school for second term fifth year, I did not arrive on the train. I wasn’t permitted to leave the house all break, except for trips back to the hospital or to see my muggle therapist. I usually only saw him during the summer holidays, just for quick checkups. During checkups, we never had too much to talk about. He and I would just chat for the allotted hour and he’d just smile and tell me to have a great rest of my holiday and to do well the following year. Sometimes he’d comment on something new, but we never had in depth conversations like we used to.

I always dreaded going to his office, never liking how much energy therapy took out of me. When I had been home in bed for a little over a week, Mum woke me up one morning and ordered me to get dressed.

“Al,” she tells me, gently pulling the covers off my body. “Please go get dressed. You have to be at Dr. Nicemen’s at eleven.”

I grumbled, tugging for the covers which were nowhere to be found on my bed. “Mum,” I whined.

“Albus,” she says, just a little bit more stern, but not as forceful.

Ever since I fucked up and took too much potion, everyone has been different. James is almost always quiet around me now, worried how to speak with me. Lily is afraid of me, afraid of how I’ll react. Dad likes to try and pretend everything is normal, like his son spewing up old potion is a normal occurrence. He likes to pretend that I’m just ill with the flu, not having a mental breakdown type of ill.

I wasn’t allowed to go to the Burrow for Christmas. I wasn’t allowed to leave my house for any sort of activity that wasn’t an appointment or illness related. I was allowed visitors, but they were scarce. I saw Scorpius in the hospital, and my Gran and Grandad came to visit as well.

Since I wasn’t allowed to go to Christmas at the Burrow, Gran delivered and insisted that my family open our Weasley jumpers when they visited our house the night before Christmas. No one acted upset that they were missing the Burrow, not around me, however. I knew they were upset opening their jumpers in the calm atmosphere of our living room, and not the energetic world of our cousins and family.

“And this one’s for my handsome Albie,” Gran says warmly, handing over two packages. James raised his brows at the two packages compared to their one, and Lily’s voice got louder.

“Why does _Al_ get _two_ presents?” She asks, getting a knock from James.

I wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I did. “Because he almost killed himself,” James whispers back. I know I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did.

“Open it,” Gran encourages, and I rip open the paper. The first, smaller present, is a usual jumper. It’s in my usual colour of green, with an A stitched on in silver. The jumper looks far bigger than normal, but Gran insists that I just needed to grow into it, looking at Mum with a sullen look. James tears open his own jumper in red, with Lily’s in pink. Both of them smile at Gran, and Gran urges me to open the second.

I slowly rip open the paper from the second gift. It’s quite large, and I unfold the large knit blanket. Gran beams proud of herself, and Mum looks at the gift and smiles a watery smile. “Oh Mum,” she gasps. “It’s beautiful.”

“Very nice,” Dad agrees, sliding his arms around Mum.

“I saw them in my knitting magazine. They’re called memory blankets. You can make them with t-shirts or old clothes. I could only find a few of Al’s old shirts, but the rest I improvised. Each square represents something about my ickle Albie.” She gives me a smile, and my heart churns. “Your mother mentioned you’ll be needing a lot of bed rest when you go back to school, so I thought this will be nice comfort.”

My eyes scan over the blanket. There were bits and pieces of old fabrics weaved into squares that held pictures of items and activities I loved most. My name was etched into the blanket, and my heart sank when I looked at it. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t deserve this gift, as no one else got anything spectacular.

The blanket now lay folded on the edge of my bed as Mum once again gently urges me to get up and ready. I let out another grumble, but I abide. I pull on my worn jumper and some joggers, Mum not batting an eye at my fashion choices. My hair is too short to need a lot of brushing, and I still hate the uncomfortable breeze so I tug a grey beanie over it.

I look like a sick kid, and sitting in the waiting room of my childhood therapist, I feel like one. His waiting room is still bright colours and cheery cartoons. The toys there still haven’t seemed to change, the blocks looking the same non-inviting ones I never wanted to play with when I visited.

Mum greets the receptionist with her usual smile, rubbing at my knee as I waited. I’ve been long enough that the staff know me by name. It’s not a surprise when one of the older staff members smiles warmly at Mum and me.

“Albus,” she says, coming through the door. “Mrs. Potter,” she says to Mum with a nod. “Dr. Nicemen will see you now.” She leads me to his office and I flop down onto his worn leather sofa. The colours on the wall are still vibrant, with charts and posters tacked to them. Book shelves of toys and games are pressed against the wall and art supplies litter the tiny table I used to colour at. Now, I just sink into the couch, like many of the older patients do.

I sit there for a minute, jolting when he opens the door. “Albus,” he greets me. He looks me up and down, taking in every noticeable change. “You know how I feel about hats,” he tells me with a warm smile. Now that I’m older, he’s less lenient about letting me wear my beanie, or anything that makes me appear as if I’m closed off to him. He doesn’t like me to appear as if I’m hiding, since this is supposed to be an open and welcoming environment.

I tug off my beanie reluctantly, the short strands of hair sticking up. I’m wearing my glasses for once, more so because Mum threatened me with a sticking charm if I didn’t do so. He looks at my short hair and raises a brow and lets out a hum.

“You cut your hair rather short,” he observes.

“I didn’t,” I respond back. My arms cross over my chest. “My godbrother Teddy did.”

His lip twitches and he nods. “The same Teddy you had a crush on?”

I nod my head and wince at the unfamiliar breeze on my neck. I hate my hair this short. It’s too uncomfortable. I reach my hand to the back of my neck and rub at the short hairs that are standing up.

“I see,” he replies. “Why did Teddy have to cut your hair so short?” He asks, placing his clipboard into his lap and looking at me. He knows the very reason I’m in here. He is always alerted of any health concerns that could flag any sort of concern for my mental state. Him not knowing me having a mental breakdown would be the best luck, but luck hasn’t been on my side lately.

“I was in the hospital,” I mumble. “It was falling out.” My words must have not made any sense to him as he rolls his hand, urging me to speak up.

“Speak up, please.”

I wince. “I fucked up,” I confess, and he doesn’t wince at all about my swearing. “I took too much—“My mind blanks and he looks at me and chuckles.

“Albus, you do not need to hide anything from me.” He remains calm and steeples his hands together. “I am no stranger to whatever it is you’re going to say to me. Whether it be something from the muggle world, or the wizarding.” My eyes get wide and he chuckles more. “Yes, I am aware you’re of the wizarding world. My wife is a witch and I’m a wizard as well.” He smiles at me. “I just decided to go a different path than healing. And before you can even ask, I left Hogwarts years before your father was in school. But enough with this, please tell me more about this thing you took. Was it a potion?”

My eyes lower, taking all this in. He was a _wizard_? How did I not know this? Did Mum and Dad know? He just keeps looking at me, searching for the rest of my story. I frown, reaching to tug at my hair, which is too short to do so. He narrows his eyes at me, awaiting the rest of my story.

“OWLs were coming up,” I confess. “My Uncle Percy was reminding me about how important they were, so I decided that I didn’t want to mess up and I wanted to do _good_ on my tests.”

“Well,” he corrected.

“I wanted to do well on my tests, and I wanted good grades and stuff. I don’t _know_ ,” I whisper. My eyes fall and I start to look away. “I just didn’t want to fuck up, but I _did_.” He nods, going to write some words down on his clipboard. “I did some research, finding out that if you mix certain potions together you can make energy supplements that have it so you don’t have to sleep or eat or whatever.” He doesn’t make any response, instead gives me a little nod, wanting me to continue. “It has some side effects and um, I didn’t know how to stop once I started.”

“Addiction does that to your body, Albus. It starts to crave what you shouldn’t have until it consumes you. I take it hair loss was a part of the side effects?” I nod my head. “What other side effects are there?”

“I…I was told I was more grumpy and I wasn’t hungry.”

“Acidity making you not as hungry and mood swings. Was there anything else?” He asks, and I shrug. “Your hair, was that because a lot of it fell out?”

“I guess it did. It itched a lot, but I didn’t really notice too much.”

“Addiction makes us unaware of problems, sometimes. You said Teddy fixed it, did he?”

I bite at my lip. “He cut it for me in the hospital.”

“Did you cry?” He looks at me intensely. “Because it’s a scary thing,” he tells me gently. “To lose control of yourself. It’s okay if you cried, Albus. You are not weak for your addiction,” he tells me. “It’s okay to cry.” He gives me a small smile, charming a tissue box over by my chair. I don’t realize I’m crying, but I must be. I wipe at my eye, water droplets collecting on the tissue. He pauses, conjouring more tissues for me. He waits for me to finish before starting again. “How do you feel?” He asks. He leans back on his chair.

“I don’t know,” I confess. I look at the clock, then at him. I reach to bite at my nail and he in turn looks at the clock.

“That’s okay. We often do not know how to feel in these circumstances. Confused, hurt, scared, all of our emotions are valid. I understand that you go back to school tomorrow, will you be taking the train?”

I shake my head quietly. “I have to be escorted.”

“Very well. I know it probably isn’t easy. I can’t speak for you, of course, but your parents are doing what is the best for you. We don’t want you to get overwhelmed, or do anything to put harm to your state.”

“I know.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Everyone has been telling me throughout this whole ordeal that what is going on is for the best for me. Every decision is said to be good for me, with most being made without my input. Its one of the more annoying things about being in a state of recovery.

“Do you, Albus? Being placed in overcrowded stimulations will often trigger you more than it used too. Your state is rather fragile, even if you don’t seem to feel like it is. We will be continuing your treatments for the next Thursdays, and the following, until we-we being your parents and healers- make a conscious decision that you needn’t weekly visits. This means you will continue your treatments even at school, compared to just the holidays. I’m sure you’re well aware of your limitations? No extracurricular activities. This includes all trips to Hogsmeade and meals as well. Nothing that can be deemed too triggering for you.”

“Yes,” I reply, not at all looking at him in the eyes. He takes notice and frowns.

“Yes what, Albus? Look at others when you speak to them.”

I scowl, feeling like I was suddenly four again and he was reprimanding me for not using my words or proper manners. I force my gaze back to meet his own eyes and bite back whatever tone I don’t want escaping my mouth. I have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow; I don’t want additional homework on something stupid like manners.

“Yes sir,” I reply, keeping my eyesight in line with his.

“Good,” he says, standing up. “I’ll see you next week Albus. Have a safe trip.” He gives me a little nod, allowing me to secure my beanie back on my head. I shove my hands back into my hoodie pocket I have overtop my jumper, and meet Mum in the hallway. Mum looks over from the magazine she was skimming, then stands up, waving bye to the women at the front desk.

“How was it?” She asks, the two of us sitting in the clunky blue minivan.

“Did you know he was a wizard?” I can’t help myself as the question spills out. I want to know if they’ve been keeping it secret, like if I knew it’d somehow be dangerous for me.

“Your father had mentioned it during a check the ministry did years ago. We never knew him. He graduated Hogwarts before your Uncle Bill attended.”

“You never told me?!”

“Al, it’s not important if he is or not. What’s important is that he’s helped you out in ways no one thought could.”

“Bullshit!” My mother gives me a warning look. Her eyes narrow and she’s getting angry. “My whole time I could’ve talked about magic and no one told me?!”

Mum swallows all her rage, giving me a tense glare instead. “Watch your language, Al. I’m sorry it was never brought up, but magic has never been the problem.”

“Except I’m shit at it,” I snap back.

Mum doesn’t pull out the stall and just sighs instead. “Albus,” she says, turning her eyes from the road. Her tone gets gentler. “Albie, is this what it’s about? Honey, you are _great_ at what you do. You have _wonderful_ talents that no one else in the family has. You’re creative and artistic, and play those wonderful songs.”

“I can’t chase a snitch or duel, or _anything_.”

“That is not true. You did perfectly fine on your report card and in most all your classes. Albus, Honey, we love you just how you are. I know it’s hard and you don’t see it, but you’ve gotten so much better and I know things look rough, Sweetheart, but they’ll get even better.” Mum pats my knee and starts driving. “I know being escorted isn’t exactly the coolest thing, but it won’t be as bad as you think.” She pulls in front the house and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I arrive at Hogwarts later than the train. No one in my family took the train for the term back, even James who is designated as Head Boy. All his train duties were given to his Head Girl, and the prefect that falls under him.

Mum and Dad both floo’d into the Headmistress’ fire place. It was the same location that I will have to use to floo every Thursday, as per my written instructions to both her and my professors and head of house.

“How are you feeling Mister Potter?” She asks me, as Dad starts to speak out of habit. She tuts, shaking her head. “Albus,” she confirms. “How are you feeling, Albus?”

I shrug my shoulders and she nods. “I don’t know,” I respond. My heart churns, and I feel sick. I shouldn’t be doing this. James shouldn’t be sitting in the Headmistress’ office while his dumb baby brother gets lectured about his stupid decisions. No, James should be enjoying his last term of Hogwarts, and Lily should be enjoying her own year.

“I’ve written up your new time table. All your classes have remained the same, with free space on Thursday afternoons for your mandatory appointments. You will not be permitted to join any clubs, whether they be academic or social, nor will you be allowed to visit Hogsmeade on weekends. I have been advised that even meals are not worth risking, so I have asked your Slytherin Prefect to bring your meals.”

My heart sinks. I know Scorpius doesn’t mind waiting on me, helping me. Last year, he took notes for me when I wasn’t able to see the board. It was due to me not having glasses at the time, but he still didn’t seem to mind too much. He even would write tiny notes on the corners to help me remember the stupid facts.

I know there’s no use arguing about it. I’d rather have Scorpius be waiting on me than one of the other kids. Most students still don’t care for me, but I don’t see how any of that will ever change. I dread the thought of all the gossip that will be going around the school from the other students.

“Head Boy?” The Headmistress says, pulling James from whatever he was thinking of. “As Head Boy it is your duty to keep an eye out for young Mister Potter. We don’t want any more accidents.” She presses her lips to form a stern looking line. “The new Slytherin password is _serpent_. Please take Albus’ things to his room, and James,” she says, looking at my older brother. He stiffens in his posture. “Please do not hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

The trek to the dungeon feels longer than it normally was. Every step feels more tiresome, and my legs feel like jelly when we get to the bottom. I say the password and allow in my family, watching them all react to the dorms.

“Mighty different than the towers,” My dad exclaims, looking around. Mum nudges him, forcing him away from the commons to my actual dorm room.

“The squid just looked at me,” Lily announces out loud. She doesn’t look at me, instead going to take the cage where my ferret was. “Al, I’m going to take Draco to the ledge to rest.” She places him on the ledge, watching as he scurries around his cage. She gazes at him in his cage, wagging her fingers about his cage.

Mum is by my bed, straightening out my bedspread and adding on the blanket that my gran gave me. She then moves to hang up my clothes and unpack items from my trunk that I usually don’t unpack right away. The final touch is Hooty on top of my pillow, waiting for me to get into bed. My pajamas are carefully folded and sitting on top, waiting for me as well.

Dad wanders away from his observations of the Slytherin dorm, coming back to my bedside. He leans in to pull me into a hug. “Be good Al,” he says, pulling back. “Mum and I are only a floo away if you need us. I love you,” he says, pulling me back in for one more hug.

“Bye Baby,” Mum says, pulling me in for a long hug. She presses a kiss to my forehead, then my cheeks. She doesn’t let go from the hug until Dad makes a tiny noise. “Don’t forget to wear your glasses to class,” she reminds me. “And owl if you need me. I’m just a floo away,” she says, stroking my hair back.

“Gin,” Dad says to Mum, who shoots him a glare walking away from my bed.

“Bye Al. If Scorpius doesn’t bring you something I will,” James says, that protective brother tone coming through. He hadn’t always been so protective. Not even at school. But ever since I fucked up, he’s been more protective and worry some.

“Bye Albie,” Lily says. “Draco, Hooty.” She rushes to give me a hug, just a small quick one before letting out a squeak and nervously turning and running back to Mum and Dad. “Daddy, they redid the couches in the room last fall. Now they’re _all_ gold and red!” She giggles, leaving the dormitory.

My family leaves the room and I feel empty. I haven’t been alone in what feels like ages. I don’t know what to do. I know what I can’t do, so I instead pull out the thick book my aunt gave me. Most of the time, my extended family members don’t give gifts to their non-immediate family for Christmas. The tradition started years ago where aside from jumpers from Gran, the rest of us drew a name out a hat and would only buy one gift for that relative we selected.

This year, however, I wasn’t in the drawing and I received many gifts. Being sick was the ultimate jackpot for getting gifts from my family members. When I came home to my bedroom, there were balloons, cards, and candies from various relatives. For some, this could be considered the ultimate Christmas, but for me, I just felt guilty looking at all this stuff.

The cards felt fake, especially when I read through the generic messages, and the sympathies that were more directed to my parents than to me. The names that were signed on the cards were like when parents signed cards from the whole family, without the other’s knowledge. Every card I read made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew I didn’t deserve this, I knew I didn’t.

My Aunt Hermione had given me a book for Christmas. It was heavy and thick, and she told me she thought I would like it. It was an action book, one with a lot of rebellion and protesting. She said it very much fit into my love of punk music. The book itself was very heavy, and very long. The print required me to use my glasses when reading, otherwise I could hardly see. The book wasn’t magical either, but instead about muggle France.

I had started it one day when I got tired of sleeping, and so far, it’s better than just about any book I’ve ever read, including the book Mum gave me when I was eight about the boy who went to live in a candy factory.

I crawl into bed as no one else had come in from dinner just yet. Across from me, Scorpius’ bed is smartly made, with his uniform hanging wrinkle free, ready for the first day of classes. I notice the few traces of cards on the bedside table, two from my dorm mates, and one from my head of house, and another from Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, the twins who have been starting to tag along with Scorpius and me.

_Albie,_

_Feel better soon! I can’t wait to continue our adventures!_

_Lorcan and Lysander_

I can’t force myself to smile, even if the card feels the most genuine. I rub at my eyes, then read the other cards. The ones from my dorm mates don’t even feel fake, which is surprising as they’ve never really spoken to me. The only person I hang out with at school is Scorpius, and sometimes Lorcan and Lysander. The note from my professor feels comforting, even if it isn’t uncommon for professors to write generic get well soon notes for all their sick students.

My eyes scan over a gift on my bedside and I tear it open, weak smile at the gift. It’s a puzzle, and I know it’s from Scorpius. He probably knows how I can’t be very active this term, and in turn he probably has all sorts of activities planned that won’t be a harm to me. The puzzle is of a generic scene of a beach. It’s got over a thousand pieces and while I don’t mind doing it, I’m also not the most excited to begin my puzzle.

I pull my book out and finish reading the chapter I’m stuck on. No one has come back from the school’s feast, so I just throw on my pajama pants and decide to take a nap. School will take a lot of energy out of me, considering even my healer visits have taken too much out of me.

I wake up later than the rest of my dorm mates do. When I’m up, all the other males in the dorm have left for breakfast. We have classes today, and I’m not eager at all to start class again. I know I have to, and I have to be escorted at all times to each of my classes. I decided to go and get ready for class, since I had no choice but to go.

I quietly tug on my white button up shirt, my hands cramping as I fiddle with the buttons on my shirt. The buttons have trouble with getting into their proper holes, and my hands seem to struggle at the action. I haven’t worn a button up shirt since I left school, and for some reason my hands won’t let me do the correct movements to make the stupid shirt button up. I sit on the bed with my shirt wide open. I just hope no one sees me. I’m already the sick kid at home with my family, I don’t want to be seen as the sick kid at school.

“Hey Albie,” Scorpius says as he makes his way to my bed. So far, Scorpius has been the only one who hasn’t seen me as a patient. He stands next to me with a muffin in his hand. He looks at me sitting there helpless, with my shirt wide open. He gives me a soft smile. “Do you need help, Albus?” he asks me.

I make no response, my face turning bright red. This is so humiliating. I thought it was bad when Mum had to dress me in the hospital, helping me put on my jumper and joggers, or when Teddy sheared my hair and I started wailing. No, this was way worse. Scorpius was giving me a very generous smile, going to lean over and work the buttons of my shirt up. He goes all the way up to my collar, then grabs my tie and starts to wrap it around me, tying it as he chats.

His hands brush by my neck, his delicate motions weaving my tie back around and tightening the knot and pushing it up my chest. He pats at it and grins. I like the silence he keeps as he has me raise my arms so I can have my knit jumper put on. He grins and reaches over to grab the brush my mother lay on the side table.

I hardly need the brush with how short my hair is, but Scorpius takes it and proceeds to brush anyways. He hums soft tunes as he brushes through my hair. He doesn’t make any comments about how short it is, or how stationary the strands are when he brushes through.

He continues humming, pushing little tufts up with the brush. He sets the brush down and steps back, grinning. “There,” he says with confidence. “You look all Albus-y again.” He reaches over to grab my messenger bag I’ve always taken around with me. It’s filled with my school books and my sketch pad. “Arms out!” He instructs me, helping me put my robe on. He grabs my bag and hands it to me, the weight throwing me off.

With careful hands, Scorpius grips to my arm. My balance is off from my messenger bag full of books, which just serves as another reminder that I’m sick. I feel tilted when I adjust the bag to the side, and Scorpius immediately takes notice and reaches to pull me straight.

“You should probably eat something,” he tells me, holding out a muffin. It was the muffin he had placed on the table side. “Maybe you’ll feel a bit better.”

“I’m not hungry,” I mumble. Before I got sick, I was _always_ hungry. I always would eat large meals and usually go back for seconds, even thirds. But ever since the hospital my appetite has decreased dramatically. I only eat half of what I normally did, and even finishing off items like an apple seemed like a stretch.

“Three bites?” Scorpius looks at me with that look in his eyes. It’s the look where he’s trying not to appear worried, but he probably is. It’s the same look almost every adult gives me. It’s harder to resist with Scorpius’ grey-blue eyes, and that pout he knows how to perfect.

I take the muffin from his hand and rip it apart. I take the larger portion and rip it into smaller portions before sticking the soft pastry in my mouth. I wince, its bran flavoured. Scorpius looks at me concerned, and I let out a cough, starting to gag.

“Its bran,” I told him, “It tastes like the dirt from Gran’s garden. It’s _gross_.”

Scorpius frowns at me, but just nods his head. “Okay. Next time I’ll get blueberry, or raspberry, or banana? Which do you prefer? They also have chocolate, and nut, and plain, and cranberry, and sometimes pumpkin, and apple,” he rambles, which causes me to smile.

He looks at me confused. “You’re smiling. Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

I shake my head. “No. You’re rambling.”

“Oh.” His face falls. “I wasn’t being annoying or something, was I?”

“No, you were being normal.” I smile at that thought. Scorpius rambling was normal. Listing all the types of muffins were normal. Scorpius was being normal.

“Oh…” He blinks at me a little confused. “Is that…is that okay?”

I nod my head, gripping to his arm for support. “Perfectly.”

“Oh, good! I was thinking, since I have to bring your food, should we make a list? I know _now_ you don’t like the bran muffins, but what about the other kinds? Or do you not want muffins? Do you want fruit instead, or maybe I can bring you an actual plate of food? And for lunch! Do you want a sandwich, or—“ He starts to chat away as we walk out the dorm and to our classes. I hold tight to his arm for stability and he chuckles in the middle of his chatting. “Steps!” He chirps, instructing that I need to watch my step around the stairs.

I look down, making sure to watch my steps on the stairs. Scorpius then jerks my arm, causing me to fling to the side. We’ve arrived at our classroom. We have potions today, and I’m glad we’re in a class we share together. If I had to go on to my classes we don’t share first thing, I’d be a wreck. I’ve yet to find a friend in one of the classes we don’t share together.

He parks me at our table we sit at together, unloading my supplies for me. As our professor comes into the classroom, our eyes meet briefly, then she proceeds to start teaching. I pay attention up until halfway through the lecture. I’m lucky today’s not a brewing day, because I nearly fall asleep. I can’t focus, and I feel dizzy. Scorpius pokes me in the side as she teaches, whispering for me to pay attention.

I am so thankful when she releases the class, and Scorpius looks at me concerned. “Are you okay? You’re usually okay with potions,” he asks, reaching his hand out for me to grab.

“I’ll be fine,” I bite back. My eyes feel heavy, and I know I don’t feel well. I’m already getting exhausted, and this one class feels like too much for me to handle. But I don’t want to go the infirmary. “I’ll just nap before…what’s my next class?” I ask Scorpius.

“Oh,” he says, scanning the newly written time table I have. It includes my appointments. “Charms! We have charms next! Oh, today looks like it’ll be an easy day! All your best subjects.” He grins at me. “But tomorrow you have to wake up to divination.”

I let out a groan. I still don’t know what possessed me to take that class. I signed up for it while Scorpius signed up for arthmancy. I should have signed up for arthmancy, it falls more in line than divination does. But for some reason I signed up for the wrong class, and now I’m stuck with it. I’m horrible at divination, and I never did listen to my dad about how horrible the course actually is. “I hate that class,” I complain, grabbing Scorpius’ arm as he helps me sit on my bed.

“Then why did you take it? I told you you’d be better at arthmancy. It’s more of your line of thinking. Divination requires you to broaden your horizons more, relying more on feelings than actual data. You should’ve switched out when you had the chance.”

“I…” My cheeks heat up. “I thought it wasn’t going to be hard. Dad said it was and I didn’t believe him.”

“Well now you’re stuck with it. You also have muggle studies tomorrow. I should’ve taken that class. It sounds fascinating, but so is ancient runes and they fall at the same time. At least we have care of magical creatures today. That’s usually easy. You take a rest, I’ll go get some lunch.”

I wake up twenty minutes before I have to go to class. I notice that there’s a sandwich on my bedside table and my I take it, ripping it to tiny pieces before taking tiny bites. Scorpius notices I’m awake, and he notices my food intake but doesn’t say anything about it.

“We’ve got to go to charms now,” Scorpius tells me. “Are you sure you’re well enough? You’re awfully pale.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, forcing myself to stand up. I’m dizzy, and I still feel off balance, but I manage to go to class, force myself to pay attention more than the first class, and we go back to the dorm before our final class of the day. It’s care of magical creatures, and this time I don’t think I can even pretend I’m well enough to go back.

Scorpius looks at me worried, then just lets out a soft sigh. “I’m going to tell Professor Hagrid that you’re not well enough to attend. He’ll understand.” I can’t even protest, and curl back into a ball and sleep until morning.

My first week repeats the first day, usually missing my final class because I’m not physically able to get there. My professors are understanding, only because it’s obvious I’m ill. They take sympathy on my ill state and give me waivers in my absences. Getting to class and paying attention is harder than the actual work at hand, although some of it is getting more difficult.

My days and weeks start feeling repetitive. I wake up, go to class, come back and nap, then repeat, with a dash of therapy on Thursdays. Therapy has gotten more in depth than it was before my fuck up, which is to be expected. Dr. Nicemen doesn’t hesitate with getting down and dirty with my therapy. He wants to talk about everything: the hows, the whys, and the meanings behind everything. He wants to know everything that was going through my head before, during, and after my fuck up.

“Albus,” he says to me one Thursday afternoon. He taps his pen on his clipboard, leaning forward in his chair. “How is school going? Are you having any difficulty with your classes?”

I shrug my shoulders, and he scratches down notes on his board. He sticks the pen in his mouth, chewing slightly, before writing down another note. “No,” I reply, finally. “I mean, nothing unusual. My professors are being generous with the classes I miss.”

“I see,” he replies with a hum. “Is this because of fatigue? Are you physically unable to make it to class?”

I bite at my lip, then reach up to tug at my hair, scowling as I realize it’s still too short. “Yeah, it is.” My answer is casual, and he gives me a frown in return. He’s not the biggest fan of me using _improper wording_ as he calls it. “But Scorpius helps me.”

He smiles at that. “That’s nice of him. He’s been awfully close to you during these tough times, hasn’t he?”

“I guess.” I haven’t really thought about it. Dr. Nicemen just gives me a smile.

“Alright Albus, times up for today. You’re getting better. I wouldn’t say you’re ready for public outings just yet, but you’re getting there. By end of term, hopefully we can get you on that train. See you next week.” He grins, giving me a wave off as I enter into the waiting room.

I’m almost always greeted by my parents in the waiting room. It’s almost always Mum sitting there with some muggle magazine in her lap, chatting away about something particular she found. Today, it’s none of that. I take a glance at boy behind the magazine as he lowers it.

“Evening Albie.”

I scan around the room once again. This has to be a _joke_. My brother never had to come to therapy sessions with me. As a child, he was always graced with the luxury to spend time at a friend’s house, or at one of my aunt’s or uncle’s. Mum and Dad always found it important to keep my stress at a minimum on these days, and as a child James’ often heightened my stress levels with his rambunctious ideas.

Seeing my older brother in my childhood therapist’s office didn’t seem right at all. Seeing James in places where one had to remain serious didn’t feel right at all. It just made me feel worse. He gives me a shaky looking grin which doesn’t sit right on his face. Even as Head Boy, James isn’t the most serious of people. He takes his role seriously, of course, but he’s not a strict Head Boy. He’s laid back in his mindset, which makes the job an ease for him. Seeing my brother in some unconfident mindset shakes me, and it feels worse knowing _I’m_ the reason for it.

“Let’s get some ice cream,” James tells me, grabbing at my upper arm as we head out the waiting room. “I’ll apparate us to Hogsmeade.” I give my brother a look. He knows I’m not supposed to go anywhere aside from school or to my required appointments. I wonder if this is some sort of trick. Sometimes James would pull pranks on me, or try and convince me to do something stupid and disgusting. “I won’t tell Mum,” James says, raising his fingers in the air. He gives a quirky grin. “Scout’s honor.”

“That’s an American thing,” I point out. “You’ve never been, nor will be, a scout.”

“Do you want ice cream or not? I want ice cream. With jelly slugs on top. If you don’t want ice cream, I’ll take you back and you can go back to your room and sulk. If I had to spend all term in my dorm I know I’d be stir crazy.”

I look my brother in the eyes and shrug. “Sure.”

“Good, all these NEWT crammings and revisions are making _me_ crazy.” James grabs my upper arm and apparates us to Hogsmeade. The usual hustle and bustle of students isn’t there, and for a Thursday afternoon a majority of the shops are on limited hours. The place to get ice cream is open, and James doesn’t even bother asking me as he orders.

I take a seat at the furthest table in the back of the restaurant, James taking a seat across from me. Therapy has always left me feeling quiet and drained, and right now I feel exhausted. It’s taking all my strength to not fall asleep right now.

“Did you want something?” I ask James.

“Can’t I just bond with my baby brother? Is that such a crime?”

I frown. “You usually want something. You haven’t want to be seen with me since I started Hogwarts.”

“Not true. When’s the last time I did such a thing?”

“Last fall. You paid me a compliment then asked me for my pocket money Mum and Dad sent. Time before that, you wanted me to draw some girl you fancy because she thought artists were _so cute_. And the time before that—“

James snorts. “You _kept tabs_? You’re _such_ a dork. No wonder—“He pauses and studies me as I pick at a piece of hair that’s falling in the wrong direction. Something inside of him clicks and he takes back whatever insult he’d usually throw at me.

I glare. James is doing this because I’m _sick_. He’s being all nice because he’s _scared_. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be on a date with my brother because he’s guilty he was treating me like shit these past few years. I don’t want to be treated like I’m someone’s good deed.

_Be nice to my sick brother_ —check. It’s like I’m a task on someone’s check list, whether it be James or Rose’s or some cousin or relative that I don’t see much.

“I’m not your pity. I don’t want your stupid pity. I don’t _want_ to be fussed over. I don’t _want_ this. Any of it.”

“Al.” James’ tone is equally harsh. He and I have always been push and shove. He’s always been able to fight back with me, something that drives our parents mad. “Swallow your goddamn pride and let your damn brother buy you ice cream. Being _nice_ isn’t equal to someone pitying you.”

“You wouldn’t give a rats ass about this before I got sick, why do you care so much now? Do you get extra Head Boy points for taking care of your _sick baby brother_?”

“Stop being a fucking twat. Mum’s right, you _are_ cranky after sessions.” He stabs at a jelly slug in his ice cream. I let out a low grumble and James stabs the middle of the jelly slug in half. He stands up and scrapes his chair across the floor, the loud squeak burning in my ears. I wince. “Okay, you’re fucking done Al. This whole fucking thing isn’t just about you, you know. Some of us actually gave a shit what happened.”

He grabs my arm and jerks me to the door way. We take the passageway from Honeydukes back to the castle, James jerking my arm the entire way. “You’re going to pull my arm from its socket,” I tell my brother.

“Good,” he replies back. His tone is equally harsh as he throws me onto my bed. “Maybe you’ll think twice about being a fucking twat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment or leave kudos or whatever! As always, feel free to check out my writing tumblr at spacerockwriting!


	11. Slowly Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus starts to open up to Scorpius slowly. New discovers are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the love! I promise I'll get to responses soon! Mentions of suicide for those that need it.

Everything feels like a giant mess. My fight with James isn’t anything out of the ordinary. He and I always fight, so that’s nothing new. But his words leave a sour taste with me. It doesn’t make the rest of my times enjoyable. I’m already not having a lot of fun being stuck in my dorm all term. Spring is coming sooner, and the end of fifth year is coming up closer and closer.

Professors are starting to talk more about OWLs and even about starting to think about careers and the future. All of it are things I don’t want to think about. Luckily, however, my best friend seems to be doing a good job at keeping me occupied via puzzles and dumb board games while I’m dorm bound.

It’s a cold Hogsmeade Saturday when Scorpius brings out a puzzle to do. It’s the same one he gave me the first of the term. All the other students are gone from the dorm, leaving just the two of us. The two of us sit in silence, working on the puzzle. Scorpius doesn’t respond back, and I don’t talk. My mind is still stuck on my fight with James as I put the pieces into place. I add what seems to be the last piece of the sky, leaning back on my bed as we work. Scorpius hums to himself as my leg twitches and I jerk my leg, knocking the puzzle to the floor.

Scorpius looks at the puzzle crash to the floor and waves his wand, cleaning up the mess. “Oh well, we were done! Want to do another, or play a game or?”

I think back to James, about his outburst and our fight. “I want to talk,” I tell Scorpius. Scorpius perks his head up, straightening his back in preparation for whatever we are yet to talk about. He scoots forward and starts paying attention a little more closely than he was. “You don’t have to stay with me,” I tell Scorpius. “You can go to Hogsmeade and to clubs and stuff if you want. I can just nap or something.”

“I want to stay with you. Hogsmeade isn’t fun without you. Besides, I don’t want you to be alone.” Scorpius gives me a sympathetic smile.

“I know. I just don’t want to be the reason you miss out.”

Scorpius shakes his head. “You’re not.”

I heave a sigh and look at my bed. I hate this. I hate feeling this way, like I’m some problem. I hate how me being sick is suddenly the center focus of everything, and my fuck up is the cause of everything being different. “Because Merlin’s beard, I’m already the reason Mum cries, or why Lil’s so scared, or Jamie’s influx of random compliments and love, or Teddy’s generosity, or Dad’s—Dad’s hurt face. If I would’ve known all that then maybe I’d of rather let it kill me,” I reply, trying to play the last words off as a joke. I see as Scorpius’ face hollows and his pale features go even paler. His ice blue eyes turn darker. “That was a joke,” I say softly.

“No it wasn’t,” Scorpius says seriously.

“I was joking,” I whispers. “I’m here, aren’t I?” I breathe heavily as Scorpius goes over to the side of my bed. He waves his wand to pull the curtains closed, even though it’s just the two of us in the dorm. Reaching to my bedside, he grabs Hooty and hugs him tight. I don’t move from my spot as I watch my best friend hug my prized possession.

“But you wish you weren’t,” Scorpius finishes quietly.

“Sometimes.” I exhale. Scorpius’ eyes grow even more serious. “Mum and Dad won’t stop hovering, James is less James than normal, and Mum always hugs me so much. Dad has trouble looking at me. I didn’t get in trouble. I should’ve been grounded for life, but Mum made me chocolate cake, and Gran gave me a knit blanket. They’ve been smothering me.”

“You could’ve died, Al.”

“I wasn’t in any danger.”

Scorpius’ ice blue eyes turn to straight ice. “You almost died. I should know; I carried you.”

My heart swells and sinks. I feel horrible, the biggest guilt I’ve felt. Disappointing Scorpius hurts, but this whole ordeal is such a mess. My heart pounds in my chest and I feel guilty. It was stupid of me. This whole thing was stupid of me and I let myself get overwhelmed over something I shouldn’t have. I feel like a failure. I keep my eyes down and don’t look at Scorpius. I don’t want to see that look in his eyes.

“My muggle therapist says that it was an addiction.”

“So you’ve been seeing someone?” Scorpius asks.

“Yeah, Mum made me start seeing him again.”

I drag my eyes up to reach Scorpius’. Scorpius pauses at my wording and looks at me.” Again?” He questions.

I quickly shift my head back down. “Forget I said anything,” I add quickly. I don’t want Scorpius to see me as the freak everyone else does. Even though I can’t see him doing such a thing, in the back of my mind I worry he will. He hasn’t even treated me as a sick kid, and I don’t want him to see me as a sick freak, like other’s have. I don’t want him to see me as a patient, like the healers do.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Scorpius says quietly. “If you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

“No, I want to tell you,” I add back quickly. “I just don’t want…I don’t want people to know.” My voice cracks, getting softer.

“You think I’d tell someone?” Scorpius sounds defensive and I feel myself start to panic.

“No! I just don’t want anyone to overhear,” I confess. “We’ve spent _years_ keeping this away from the press. We can’t let it get out. It’d fuck up a lot of shit.”

“What is it?”

“Promise not to tell?”

Scorpius nods his head, taking this seriously. “Of course, Al.”

I take a deep breath. “As a little kid, I went to muggle mind healers. Therapy, it’s called in the muggle world. I have…” I pause then rearranges my words. “When I was in nursery school, my teacher told Mum and Dad I had really bad manners, and behaviors, and social problems. I…I have problems understanding people. I’m not _crazy_ , or psyco, or _anything_ , I think,” I add in a quiet mumble. “I just am shit with people. I got better! Not _cured_ , but better. Like I don’t have tantrums when I’m socially exhausted anymore, and I can function pretty good compared to how I was.” I wait for Scorpius to try and process everything. I hold my breath, waiting for his next words.

“But how is it a bad thing?” Scorpius asks. “You have trouble with social skills and people. Why is that anything to be ashamed of?”

“Once,” I start off quietly. “When I was little, like, we just found out. Dad was talking to Aunt ‘Mione in his work office once. People overheard him in the office. I wasn’t supposed to hear that. I really wasn’t. But I heard him and Mum talking one night about it when I had went to get some juice before bed. Dad was _really_ freaked out. Turns out people at work kept joking with him about it. Someone had overheard and told Dad Voldymort,” I pause. I always hate how I can’t pronounce certain words. The words in my head never matched the way they came out. No amount of training could ever fix that. It’s embarrassing, too, to know just how stupid I sound when I say certain words or phrases. Dad tried to correct me a few times, but he eventually gave up when learning it wasn’t going to get better. I just can’t seem to form the words. “Had people issues too,” I say while I look at my bedding.

Scorpius fills in the blanks himself. “Oh, Albie,” he says, and reaches over to hug me. “People assumed you were the next _him_.”

“You know what they say,” I mumble. “ _He_ didn’t understand love either.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Scorpius looks uncertain in his question. It’s like he wants to know more, but respect my privacy at the same time.

“I dunno. Somehow, _Hi I’m Albus Potter and I’m socially fucked_ couldn’t seem to find a proper way into a conversation.”

“Does anyone else know? Aside from your family and stuff, obviously.”

“Mum told the mums of the muggle kids I played with. And relatives, obviously. It’s one of the sacred things on some extreme forbidden list that no one is allowed to talk about outside family. I mean, it’s like _really up there_. I mean, it’s so up there that once when I was younger James tried to use it against me in some stupid fight and he got grounded for like, a month. And by grounded, it was probably the worst grounding he had ever had. James can pick on me other ways, but if he pulls that out and Mum and Dad find out, he’s in _really_ big trouble.”

“Are you okay?” Scorpius asks, and I nod my head.

“Yeah, I am. Really.”

“What did it do to you?” He asks. “The potion, not your social disorder. But by the way, I’m glad you told me. Let me know if you need help with it. Honest.”

I lick at my lips. They felt cold and chapped. “Thanks, “I say, searching for words. “And I will,” I adds quietly. “Thank you for not treating me like a freak. For both of them.”

“You’re my best friend; why would I call you a freak?”

“Telling someone that you physically have to get help for social skills isn’t exactly the most normal thing, Scorp. Neither is being in a hospital because you almost ripped a hole in your stomach with an acidic potion you made from some illegal section of a text book.”

“But then, neither is obsessing over an author that wrote a book about a history of our school, or having multiple copies of the same text book, because each one has a different cover, or edition by the same author. We’re both not normal, Albie,” he tells me, leaning back on his hands on the bed. “Why did you take the potion?”

“I dunno, I was told at some stupid family dinner that fifth year was OWL year. My Uncle Percy casually mentioned that OWLs were the most important test of Hogwarts, and if you failed your OWLs you’d never get a job.”

“But your Uncle Percy says the same thing about literally _everything_ you enjoy. If you listen to hard heavy music like that people won’t hire you. If you’re not some clean cut proper kid, schools will never take you seriously. Al, he always talks like that. Why was this any different?”

“I _know_. I don’t know.” I can’t explain why the answer bothered me so much. I can’t explain why I did what I did. I can’t explain anything Scorpius wants to know. I can’t even understand myself the reasons as to why I did what I did. All I could remember running through my head was that I just didn’t want to fuck up again. I didn’t want to mess up. I just wanted things to go right, to get the good grades, to _be_ good. I wanted to be that success that my brother was, that my father is, that Mum has achieved. Somehow, all this boiled down to the stupid examinations my brain decided to obsess over.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Scorpius replies seriously. “If it makes you upset, or you’re not ready, you don’t have to answer me.”

“I was scared. I was scared, and James has his quidditch and Lily has her being an only girl thing, and Mum’s Mum and Dad’s Dad and I’m just…I _wanted_ to do good. I wanted to have a future and I’ve always been the troubled kid. _The freak.”_

“You’re not,” Scorpius tries to reason with me.

I think back to all the times in primary school where I was left out. I think back to all the games I wasn’t allowed to play, or being the baby pest of the groups. My mind thinks of laughter from my cousins who think I’m too young, or my relatives who were overly concerned. I think about the time I saw Mum and Dad in the kitchen, even when I wasn’t supposed to. My mind wanders to James’ serious tone about everything, and Lily’s scared face.

“I’ve always been that kid. I’ve always been seen as odd, or off. I’ll always be that kid that doesn’t understand, or that kid that’s off on his own because he’s too fucked socially.”

“So your social reasons were the reason behind your potion?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t really know. I just had it in my head that I’d fail the OWLs just like I fail at…at _that stuff_ and I don’t know. I just didn’t want to do that. It’s not just school that’s rough for me Scorp,” My voice gets softer. “It’s being lonely. This…this _thing_ inside me that causes me to fuck up _so much_ , it makes me _so fucking confused_ ,” I whisper to my best friend. “I just wanted to not fuck up for once,” I choke out in a whisper. “And it seemed easy. It was _just_ a potion. But I fucked up, naturally.”

“But if all you needed was just to study, then why go to the extremes? You’re not a horrible student, Al. I mean, sure, there are some classes you’re not best at, but even Hermione Granger had a bad class.”

“I _know_ , but it didn’t seem like it’d be _enough_. I just got overwhelmed in myself, I guess.” I try not to look at Scorpius and sigh. I pick at the corner of my nails and then at my bed. “I’m sorry.”

Scorpius shakes his head at me. He gives me a frown and shakes his head more. “You don’t need to be,” Scorpius replies. “You don’t _ever_ need to apologize for that thing. You don’t ever have to feel _sorry_ for having a social disorder, or a learning disorder, or mental disorder, or _whatever_. You don’t have to apologize for not understanding, or being scared of yourself, or that you need patience, or quiet time. If you _ever_ need me for anything, I’m here for you. I’m your best friend,” Scorpius finishes. “And I care about you.”

“Thanks, Scor.” I manage to force out a weak smile.

“And if all you _need_ is some study time, then Professor Malfoy is in the house!” He lets out a bit of a giggle. “From now on _I’ll_ be your tutor for extra study! We can do it every night, work on our OWLs together. We can do it when no one is here, just us, or in the library, and after dinner, _oh_ , I’ll make a schedule!” Scorpius lets out a squeak at the mention of making a timetable for studying. “It’ll be _fun_.”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply with the same weak smile. “Fun.” My grin is nervous and uncertain.

I spend just about every afternoon when I’m not in class or medical appointments with _Professor Malfoy_. We have a time table and note cards. All the terms are highlighted with little notes for reminders. Every so often Scorpius will quiz me. Studying together is easy, and not as painful as I had thought it would be.

When we aren’t studying, we’re doing things like puzzles and some very old muggle board games that were found. The games are easy with Scorpius. He’s not the most competitive person, and in the muggle game of _Life_ he enjoys the ride in the plastic vehicle.

I spin the wheel and move my little car down the coloured paths. I land on a space and grumble. Scorpius peers down. “Lose job. Sorry Al.” Scorpius spins the wheel and laughs, landing on _triplet girls!_

I peer at his little plastic car. There’s pink pegs next to a blue peg and four pink pegs. My own car only has one pink peg and two blues. I know it’s just a game, and the pegs don’t mean a thing, but heat rises in my cheeks as I look at the pink peg next to my blue. It’s just another reminder to me that I won’t ever fulfill that perfect life of my brother.

I bite my lip and move my leg, the board toppling over. Scorpius looks at me a little concerned, but doesn’t say anything. He instead picks up the pieces and places them away. “Bye bye Bathilda: one, two, and three.” He waves as he puts the pieces back in the box. “Maybe we should work on our patronus’? I think we need to work on our partronus’. The physical examination requires us to perform such work. Do you want to try?”

I look at my best friend, then at the dejected game that was put up. All we’ve done are puzzles and board games and card games. I’ve played way too many versions of wizard’s chess, and we’ve told so many stories. I shrug my shoulders, and sigh. I’ve done my patronus once before, myself and Dad. I know what it is. I don’t want to show Scorpius. I don’t want to show _anyone_.

“I guess,” I give in, heaving a sigh.

“Right, think of your happiest memory and say it _loud_ and _confident_. Most wizards can’t get it right first try. Many can’t produce a patronus.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and think of a happy memory. It’s rough, especially considering right now I don’t feel at my best state for thinking of happy memories. Happy isn’t something I’ve been best at, lately. I finally decide on the memory of meeting Scorpius for the first time. It’s a happy emotion, one also filled with worry and anxiety from when I didn’t know my fate at school. I mutter the words: _expecto patronum_ and out slides a light bit of white and silver mist.

Scorpius gives me an encouraging smile. “Almost, Al. Try a harder one.”

I think of another memory. I think of fulfilling everything I’ve ever wanted. I think of meeting a right boy and falling in love, the boy with blond hair and a kind smile. I think of his laughter, and the first kisses we’d make together. I think of all the things I don’t think I’ll ever achieve in my lifetime. My voice isn’t as scratchy the second time and out and on to the ground plops my patronus. The creature grazes on the ground and my heart sinks, waiting for the laughter to come.

Scorpius lets out a little gasp. “Albie, it’s-its _woah_ ,” he says, eyes wide. “Al, it’s a koala!” He exclaims. “That is so neat!” He watches as the animal sits and blinks, growing comfortable with the blond. “I’ve never heard of a koala patronus before. Is this your first time?”

“Dad talked to me about it. We tried it a few times. I only succeeded once. I don’t—“ My cheeks heat up further as Scorpius coos over my koala.

“He’s so _cute_ , Al.”

I frown at him. He doesn’t look cute. He looks ridiculous. He looks _silly_ like he’s mocking me. When I think of patronus, I think of Dad’s heroic stag, or James’ black dog. I don’t at all think of an animal like a koala, one that’s aloof and spends all day on trees. “But aren’t they supposed to be tough, like a protector?” I can’t help but think my patronus is a mistake, even though I know I can’t change it even if I truly wanted too. Dad told me that wizards can’t change them on their own accord. It has to be done through life.

“Koala’s aren’t weak animals, Al. They’re fierce protectors to those they care about.”

“Try yours,” I suggest, wanting all focus off my dumb koala. The patronus slowly fizzles out and away, and I don’t care if I ever saw him again. It’s a foolish creature, and it somehow makes sense that I wouldn’t receive a noble animal for my patronus. I wish I could change him, but I can’t. Dad said they only change in certain circumstances, like love.

“Okay,” Scorpius says, waving his wand. A tiny bit of silver mist pops out, but not enough to fully form the silver creature. Scorpius closes his eyes once again and thinks harder. Out of his wand pops a creature in silver mist. The mystical creature in silver soars past my head and lands on the bedpost.

I stare at the silver creature. It looks vaguely familiar, like something I’ve seen before. The creature makes my heart swell with comfort, how the black spots on its wings look like the same black spots I’ve noticed before. I steal a glance over at my little plush owl sitting atop my bed. The owl in silver looks exactly like my own beloved toy.

“Hooty?” My words fall out my mouth.

Scorpius looks at me and tilts his smile. He looks at the owl, then back at me, grinning. “It does,” he remarks. “Al, I think this-I think this is Hooty, if he were, well, a live owl.”

“Mines a koala, and yours is a replica of my favourite stuff toy.”

“Yeah,” Scorpius says. “Isn’t that _neat_?” He looks at the owl again, watching it soar around the room. His eyes wander back to the plush that sits a top my bed.

My heart slumps, because I have _no_ idea what this means. What does it mean when your best friend’s patronus matches your favourite toy? I knew I needed an answer to this, and I _knew_ who I needed to ask. I needed to talk to my older brother.

“I…have to go…” I say awkwardly, looking at my best friend. My eyes dart from him to my owl on my bed. Scorpius doesn’t say anything else, and if he does, I can’t hear it as I already exit the dorm.

I know I probably look ridiculous in just my pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt, but that is the least of my concerns as I pace back and forth outside of the Gryffindor common room. I search for any possible indication of a person to ask for entrance, and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach when my cousin walk by. She’s laughing with her friends, one of them nudging her as they pass by me. Her friend gives me an off look, giggling and turning away from me.

“I’ll see you in a minute, Rosie,” she giggles.

“Who’s that?” I ask my cousin.

She shoots me a look. “None of your business.” Rose uncrosses her arms and glares at me. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?”

“I need to speak to James. Please.” Rose’s glare falls from her face. She stares intensively at me, checking to see if I’m lying to her. Her look is one that matches looks her mother can give. My voice must sound desperate, because she sighs and nods.

“Fine. No funny business.”

I shake my head. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for funny business? Look at me, Rosie. I’m in fucking pajamas and I’m desperate to see my brother and ask him a stupid question.”

She leads me through the portrait and walks with me. “You could’ve asked me, you know.”

“Like you’d really help me. You hate me.”

“I do not,” she protests. “I don’t _hate_ you, Albus. I think you’re an idiot sometimes, but I don’t _hate_ you.”

“Why would I even ask you when you make _no effort_ with me? I know James and I don’t always get along, but at least he _tries_. Did your mum want you to be nice to me all of a sudden? Is this some pity on Albie because he’s sick? Listen Rose, I don’t need your bullshit sympathies. Let me see my brother.” I reach my hand out and push my cousin out the way. She huffs, her eyes flashing anger.

“Fine, Albus, _be_ that way.” She stomps off.

I see my little sister out the corner of my eye and gulp, ducking low until I find my way to the boy’s dorm. Someone from my brother’s year looks at me, then jogs up the stairs, then back down. “Jamie will see you,” he says, and if I were in a better mood I’d snort.

Instead, I go to my brother’s bed and stand awkwardly at the side. He has various pieces of parchment littering his bed, along with books piled high on his nearby desk. There’s some photos tacked to his cork board of him and his friends, as well as some of his family. I’m surprised to see the one of myself and Lily on there. It’s some dopey photo from the holidays, back when my hair was cut like my brother’s and we were in coordinating jumpers.

He tilts his head up and sees me staring at the photograph. “You came to apologize?” He asks me. He sits up in his bed. I look at my brother and shake my head. He raises a brow. “No apology, no chat.”

“Fine,” I give in. Letting James win was worth it to understand just why Scorpius’ patronus was my favourite plush toy. “I’m sorry,” I say to my brother.

“For?” James’ look is almost reminiscent of one he would give me before I got sick. I feel a flip in my stomach of joy at the idea of not being seen as the sick sibling. I don’t even mind apologizing if it means things will go back to feeling like normal.

“You know,” I mumble to James. I look down at the floor at my sock clad feet. My brother is about to tease me, or spout out about how right he is when he notices my face and stops. He clears his throat and taps on his bed.

“You can sit down, Al,” he says. “What brings you to the tower?”

“I need to ask you something. _Please_ don’t laugh,” I plead with my brother. I wish I didn’t have desperation in my voice, but even I can feel it leaking out.

“Yeah?”

“I-“ I take a deep breath, then exhale. “I was practicing patronus’ with Scorpius.”

“You were?” He raises his brow interested. “Did something happen?” I nod my head. James scrunches his brows together when I stay silent. “Well, what?”

I exhale, then go to pick at his bedding. “We were practicing patronus’. I did mine, and he didn’t laugh. He thought it looked cool. But when he went to do his, it was—“ I feel the heat rise to my face. “It was an owl.” James blinks, unphased in my confession. “A white snow owl,” I add.

His eyebrows raise amused. “Yeah?”

I nod. “His patronus looks _exactly_ like Hooty.”

James’ smile creeps on to his face. “Hooty. As in, that toy you carried everywhere?” James asks, knowing very well what I was referring to.

“Exactly,” I reply back. I twist nervously at the sheets on his bed. They’re wrinkled, with lumps all the way up the sheets to his pillow. “What does it mean?” I ask my brother. “There has to be a cause behind it.”

“Maybe it means he’s hopelessly in love with you,” James says. He grabs my hand that’s twisting at his bedding, plucking it and putting it to my lap. He gives me a wry grin. “Otherwise why would it have the same markings as your dumb toy?”

“Hooty’s not dumb,” I defend.

“Right.”

“He’s _not_.” My eyes narrow in to a glare at my older brother.

“Whatever. So, Scorpius is probably in love with you or something.”

“But he loves Rose.”

James snorts. “Right, he loves Rose. Well, that’s tough, bro.” He reaches to knock my shoulder playfully.

“I’m serious, James!” My voice comes out in a nervous whine. “Scorpius _can’t_ be in love with me! I’m-I’m _me_. We’re _us_. He can’t love me. _Why_ would he love _me?_ I’m _me_.” My mouth flaps open, as my brother reaches out to close it. It falls open again. “I’m too fucked to date!” James reaches over to press my mouth closed.

“Al, relax. You guys have had a lot happen in the past few months. Give it some time. You almost died. That’s enough to make anyone have an impulse reaction to anything. It could be the shock of what happened. Get better first, then see from there. Traumas effect people differently, or whatever.”

“So he might not be in love with me?”

James shrugs. “Right now, it’s more important you get better. Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

“No,” I reply, looking down at my feet. James reaches an arm around my shoulder and ruffles the strands of hair that aren’t too short to be ruffled.

“Too bad.” I groan, slapping his hand off my shoulder. He retaliates with a head lock, going to rub his knuckles in my hair. I whine, and he pulls away. “I’m going to drop you off in the dungeon now, okay Al? Put you back in the snake’s habitat.” He’s teasing. The tease is half-hearted, but he gives me that smile he gives when he’s trying to be comforting.

He says the password needed for me to go in, smirking as he walks his way through the dorm. One of the older guys smirks at my brother. “Looking for our quidditch plans, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream, MacMillen. We’ve beat you three times. Don’t think we need to see your silly plans.” He laughs, keeping his arm protectively around me. “Just dropping my baby brother back in his dorm.”

The older boy glares at my brother. “No funny business Potter. If you take one look at our plans—“

James glares back. “Baby brother,” he says harshly. “Dorm room. Head Boy duties,” he stresses. “If I wanted to look at shitty quidditch plans, I’ll come to you.” He tightens his grip on me and pushes forward in the crowd. He uses his grip to guide me down the stairs to my dormitory, ignoring the sounds and annoyances from the others in my house. “If MacMillen tries to pull any shit, let me know. Fucking arse of a keeper if I’ve ever,” James mumbles, steering me back to my bed. “You,” he says, pointing a finger at Scorpius.

“ _Me_?” Scorpius gulps. James just gives him a smile and reaches to scruff up my best friend’s hair. James glances around our dorm and shakes his head, muttering _snakes_ under his breath. He then waves his fingers, rolling his eyes as he leaves our dorm.

“What’s his deal?”

“Some quidditch rival. Cory or Cody or something.” I shrug nonchalantly, going to press my feet up on my bed.

“Where did you go?” He asks. “I mean, with James.”

“Just had to ask him something.”

“Oh,” Scorpius replies back.

“About Teddy’s birthday,” I lie.

“Oh. Are we okay?” He asks, going to chew on his bottom lip. “If we’re not, can you let me know?”

“It’s fine. I’m doing shit at herbology, can you help?”

Scorpius forces out a chuckle, pulling out a book. “We haven’t talked about mandrakes in a while!” His voice turns away from the nervousness it was, as he instead focuses on my school work. My heart churns as I look at my best friend, a wave of guilt hitting me. I push all thoughts away as I force my eyes to focus on the text in front of me. “Chapter three: mandrakes,” Scorpius reads aloud.

I press my head against my pillow as he reads the chapter again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave any comments or questions, and as always feel free to checkout my writing tumblr: spacerockwriting.
> 
> Thanks so much and see you guys next week! xx


	12. To the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the getting close to OWLs, and time to start thinking of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your love and support! I appreciate you all so much <3

With only a short amount of time left at school, fifth and seventh years were starting to stress more than they averagely would. Professors kept warning us about tests and grades, suddenly quizzing us on things we talked about in first year. So many notes were starting to fill my textbooks and old parchment was starting to litter my floor.

Scorpius had taken to rereading any chapter of any textbook he could get his hands on. If he couldn’t memorize the text, then he’d reread it again, just so he would have the words in his head. When he wasn’t rereading the textbooks for a third or fourth time, he was reading and rereading all the pamphlets that were put out in the commons for fifth years and seventh years. Everything from auror to professor, to _sanitation in the wizarding world!_ littered the bed of my best friend. It seemed as if every day Scorpius had a new career in mind.

“I’m just saying Al, Sanitation Engineering is a concern we should be thinking about. I mean, if we don’t keep the streets clean, who will?”

“But that’s not really a NEWT driven career, is it? It’s just fancy words for wizard janitoring. Even squibs could do the job.”

“I’m just _saying_ , maybe I should put it as my fifth backup.”

I roll my eyes, but give him a rare smile in compensation. “Behind magical hairdressing, potioneering, executive assistant to the minister, diplomat to goblin welfare, and whatever else you’ve mentioned in the past week.”

“It’s all so exciting! Come on Al,” he says, smile bursting with joy. “We’re finally picking a focus. It’s _so_ exciting! Aren’t you excited? Which one of these interest you?”

I shrug. “None of them, I guess.”

Scorpius frowns. “Don’t you have any interests?”

I shake my head. “I don’t really know what I want to do. I mean, out of your options you’ve listed I guess the trash one, since well, it’s so easy a dumb squib like me could do it.”

Scorpius’ frown deepens. “Al, that’s not true. You’re not a dumb squib. You’re a good wizard. I bet you’d be _great_ at potioneering. Or maybe something like art related. You’re always doodling. When do you meet with Professor Vixen?”

“Tomorrow,” I groan. I place my head in my hands.

“Maybe she can help you out.”

Knocking on the door of my head of house’s office is not something I want to do. I’m standing there in my school robe, tie awkwardly knotted and buttons messily done. I run my hand through my hair again, causing the few strands that can do so, stick up.

“Mister Potter,” she says, tight smile on her face. “Please come in.” I take a seat across from her, my palms growing sweaty. She laughs lightly. “Albus, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re simply going to go through your grades and discuss which paths bring you the most interest. Now, do you have any idea what you want to do?” I shake my head and she nods. “Well, do you have any idea what types of things you’re interested in?” I shrug my shoulders. “Well, what are some of your hobbies?”

“I dunno. I play guitar sometimes, and I draw and photograph and stuff. I don’t know what else I’m good at.”

She pulls out my file and skims through it. “You’ve done very well in charms, potioning and muggle studies. Have you thought of teaching those subjects? Or maybe something with one of those? What about working with muggle artifacts like your grandfather?” I shake my head as she sighs, sorting through more of my files. “What about an auror like your father?” I quickly shake my head. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Well, can you tell me a bit of other interests you have? Or, perhaps things you have found interesting.”

I shrug my shoulders again. “I don’t know,” I reply softly.

Professor Vixen shuffles more of my files and sighs again. “Okay, can you tell me _why_ you took the classes you took? Muggle studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination. Why did you take those courses?”

I shrug again. “I dunno. I guess I always liked how muggles do things.” A smile creeps on to her face. “I always found it interesting how their processes are. Like, their medical stuff, or technology, or whatever.”

“You like how muggles do things?” She repeats. “Like what exactly started this, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Once, when I was younger and I hurt my leg, I went to the muggle healer. Instead of regrowing my bones they put a plaster on it and it hurt less. And I um—“ my eyes wander to the floor. I don’t see her looks, but I whisper my next words. “I was born with a social disorder.”

“Right,” she says. “Go on.”

I take a breath and then bite at my lip. “I had to go to a therapist, as they’re called in the muggle world. It helped. I—I don’t—there’s not that much of that here.”

“There isn’t,” she replies with a nod. “So you want to do healing? Perhaps using muggle technologies in the wizarding world?”

I think, then start blushing. “I think so. I mean, it sucks having a muggle disorder in a world that doesn’t understand it. I don’t—I mean, I’d like to help others. I think.”

She leans forward and smiles warmly at me. “Well, you’d need NEWTs in healing, then. Potions, Charms, and you’d probably still want muggle studies for your focus. Transfiguration, herbology, and defense would still probably be needed. You’ll also have an entrance examination for requirement before getting in to any medical place of study. It’s a rather difficult course of study, but I assure you Mister Potter, you could get in if you put your effort in. You would need to work on your grades for herbology and defense, but with a lot of effort, I’ve no doubt you could accomplish it.” She smiles at me.

“You-you think I could do it?” My mouth flies open, shocked at her wording.

“Albus,” she says to me. Her tone is softer than it normally is when she’s teaching. “You are a good student. You are an excellent contribution to Slytherin House. I have no doubt in my mind that if you put in the effort for these courses, you will go far. I think,” she says, presses her fingers together. “I think, when you have a focus that you’re passionate and interested in, you succeed far more. I have seen it in your grades. When you’re interested, you’re far more observant.”

My brows scrunch confused. “What about the whole Slytherin Squib, Cry baby Slytherin thing?” There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s heard of those rumors. The whole school has.

She waves her hand. “Nonsense. You’re an excellent wizard when you apply yourself. Look at you. You wanted to find that potion last winter. You wanted to make it. You did. Of course the side effects weren’t kind, but you did it. How many students _create_ a potion? Given it’s not a potion one _should_ create, but rules aside, it was a rather creative thing you did. You’re not a dumb kid,” she defends. “I think with some growth you’d become an _excellent_ healer. Take a pamphlet,” she tells me, handing one over. “Have a good one, Mister Potter.” She smiles at me, dismissing me back to my dorm for the evening.

Scorpius is pressed over parchment and a various textbook when I discard my uniform for my pajama bottoms and pajama shirt. He looks up as he hears my noises, grinning over in my direction. Tucking a piece of parchment in his book, he leans forward.

“So,” he says, crossing his legs in excitement. “How did your meeting go? Professor said that I needed to narrow my ideas down a tad more,” he says, rambling. “She says I can’t do it all.”

“She recommended maybe healing.”

Scorpius smiles. “Healing? I can see that. I think once you get your people thing under control you’d be a great healer.”

“Wait, really?” I ask. “That seems more like a you thing.”

“I don’t know if I want to do healing,” Scorpius admits. “I’m tired of hospitals. I’d like to do something in that field, I think. Perhaps research, or working with creatures.”

“Like Lorcan and Lysander’s great-grandfather?”

“Maybe. But I think you’d be good at it,” Scorpius adds on. He nods enthusiastically at me. ”Like, once you get your people skills underway, I really think you’d be a good healer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius says and nods more. “Really. Do you want me to help you with some of it?” He asks, gesturing to the small index cards I had tucked away. Ever since Scorpius found out, I was a little less shy about hiding my study cards. They’re extremely juvenile, printed with child-like faces and emotions. It makes me feel completely stupid when I use them. But, they’ve always helped in the past. Scorpius never laughs at them, instead treating them like they’re another study tool.

I look around the room and then notice another fifth year enter. Looking back at Scorpius, I shake my head quickly. He just nods sympathetically, instead pulling out another text book and starts reading them to me.

By the time the late spring starts turning into the brisk of summer, my head is _done_ with studying. I had little time to enjoy my birthday, focusing almost all my attention on my upcoming tests and studying for said tests. All homework assignments have been lifted during OWL testing week. I, like every other student, force myself to reread every bit of practice test and every last note I can.

When Scorpius and I enter our examination for our written portions, it all starts out the same. For every examination we share together, we take out seats and there’s a bit of murmur from the few ministry representatives who have chosen to sit in on our examinations. The representatives glance at me, some whispering and pointing, as if seeing the look alike to Harry Potter is the highlight of their life. Honestly, if their career path is to just administer examinations of Hogwarts students, then it very well may be.

Before the clock starts, Scorpius leans over from his seat and gives me a wide grin, followed by a thumbs up. He mouths the words _good luck_ to me, and then the professor announces the rules of the particular examination and we begin. My head whirls as every fact and theory I’ve ever encountered enters and leaves my brain. My writing becomes more scratchy and illegible as I start writing my essay portions of the examination.

After, Scorpius usually leaves the hall first, myself usually being one of the later students leaving. The only time I leave early are for my potions, charms, and muggle studies examination, where I know I haven’t failed. Or at least, I really hope I haven’t. I have heard in the past of examinations where every answer is a trick question and the right answers are actually wrong and if that’s the case, then I really have failed.

When it comes time for the practical portion of the examination, my heart beats rapidly as I stand outside in the hall with Scorpius. We’re both too nervous to talk to each other, instead muttering various charms and spells until one of us go in. He usually returns looking flustered, but holding an anxious smile on his face.

When it’s my turn, my heart races and I stand in front whoever it is and my mind races as I try to perform the task they’ve assigned. With defense, my professor and the representative chosen to sit in whisper words to each other. “Okay Mister Potter, can you please demonstrate these spells for us?”

When the boggart comes out, my mind starts racing and I try not to think of my worst fears. I take breaths and try to block out the noises, eventually being reduced to near tears at the final boom. Thunderstorms have always shook me up, even as a child, and it’s safe to say the boggart didn’t want to leave out that fear of mine.

“Tissue?” The representative asks, floating one over to me. The voice is kind. “It’s okay, Mister Potter. Many students get tripped up with their fear. Now, for bonus points, can you produce a patronus? If you can’t, it’s understandable, it’s rather difficult magic for any witch or wizard…”

I nod my head, clearing my head slightly. My patronus hasn’t been the strongest as of lately. I think of my happiest memory, one that hasn’t happened yet. I think of a false memory, trying to force the depression and the Slytherin Squib mindset temporarily from my brain. As the silver flows out my wand, there’s little gasps and coos.

“Lovely! Lovely, lovely, lovely,” she repeats over and over. She scratches something down on her board. “Excellent work, Mister Potter.” She nods, releasing me from my examination.

I tremble on my way back. Scorpius notices as I collapse on to my bed. “Are you okay, Albie?” he asks, worried. “How did your examination go?”

“Rough,” I reply. “Hard. I broke down at my boggart. Fucking storms.”

Scorpius rubs at my arm. “It’s okay. They’re fears. Fears make us human.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not. You can’t help it. But how did your patronus go?”

“They cooed,” I reply. My eyes narrow to the ground. “Fucking koala.”

“He’s not dumb, he’s cute,” Scorpius reassures me. “Why don’t we study for herbology? I know that’s not a strong subject for you.”

I grumble, but agree. I don’t do terribly at herbology. The written portion is not what sets me up for failure. Most of the time, the portions that bother me are the practicals. I have an allergy to most types of plants, which doesn’t often help in a greenhouse environment.

When I’m set to do my practical, it’s myself, my Uncle Neville, and one of the ministry representatives. My written went okay, which I know will save my butt with my results. Uncle Neville nods at me, instructing me to firstly identify the correct plants and what they’re used for.

“Great,” he says, when I complete. He then gestures to something I have to pot by myself. I nod, putting the gloves on and go over to the plant, mumbling to myself. My eyes start to fill up with water as I attempt potting the plant. Something happens, and a loud sneeze interrupts my examination. The representative scratches something down on their board, and Uncle Neville just flushes.

I look at my arms which start to blister up and Uncle Neville nods at me. “I think we’re finished,” he says, nodding in my direction. He gives me a warm sympathetic smile, the representative just nodding and writing words down. I groan.

James was standing out the classroom when he notices me remerge. “OWL trouble, baby brother?”

“Allergic reaction,” I reply, showing him my blistered arm. James whistles and nods.

“That’s some reaction. Do you need to see the healer?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that bad. Why are you out here?”

“NEWT stuff,” he explains, flipping his hand at me. He then reaches and grabs at my arm. “It’s still kind of burn-like. Hold still,” he says, holding tight to my arm and waving his wand. A cream shoots out, making the blistering burn less. “Feels better, right?”

I snatch my arm away. “Thanks,” I mumble. My brother gives me a satisfied grin.

“Welcome Baby Bro.” He reaches over to nudge my shoulder. “Well,” he says, tucking his wand back to his pocket. “Back to Head Boy duties. Fun stuff,” he snorts. “Later Albie.”

I find myself collapsing to my bed when I arrive back to my dorm. Scorpius is bent over some parchment, still trying to decipher some last minute notes. I was at the last of my examinations. I already knew I had failed divination and history of magic. No amount of preparation could keep me prepared for those examinations.

“How was herbology?” He asks, scooping his fingers into his hair. He presses the blond pieces back. My heart aches with the want of being able to have my hair toss. It’s still rather stiff-like.

“Horrid. I had an allergic reaction.”

Scorpius’ face fills with worry. “A reaction? But they can’t fault you for that, can they?”

“I don’t know. Uncle Neville just told me that was all. I saw James when I was leaving. He sprayed some cream on my arm. It was blistering.”

“They can’t fault you for being allergic. That’s a bodily aspect you can’t control. It’s like—it’s like faulting someone because they’re blind!”

“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’m fine. I just need my muggle inhaler and a nap. I’ll be okay.” Scorpius presses his hand to my head, worried. He rummages into the bag I wasn’t allowed to bring in with me and pulls out the small green tube. There’s a little sticker of a snake on it that James put on when I was younger.

I give the tube a little shake and press down as needed, then go and remove my robe and head to shower. I crash in to my bed shortly after, ignoring all sounds as I finally sleep.

The Saturday after our OWLs are completed, Scorpius practically drags me out of bed. He’s tugging at my arms, my legs, and even the few tufts of hair that aren’t stiffen. Yanking the covers up, he grins. “It’s the last Hogsmeade day of the year, Al!” I groan, swiping at his arms, going to pull the covers back to cover my body. Scorpius shakes his head, tugging them off and on to the floor. The house elves who make our beds will have a fit later. “Nuh uh,” he says. “It’s warm. Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“I can’t,” I reply back. I reach to swipe at Scorpius, but he’s too far away. “I’m not allowed to leave,” I tell him, groaning. The cold months have turned to spring, which in turn has finally become summer. James was set to graduate on Friday, with the train ride set for Saturday. By next Sunday, I’d be back at my house in my bed.

“It’s your last one of the year.”

“So?”

“So!” Scorpius grins. He goes over to my wardrobe and pulls out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “Lorcan, Lysander, and I have a surprise for you! Lorcan’s been asking how you were, wondering how everything was going. He says he wishes he could’ve joined us for some of the games, but, he figured you were best with a small crowd. He had a lot of research, too. But, we’ve decided that you’ve suffered enough. You deserve an outing. Lunch at The Three Broomsticks. Butterbeer, candies. You deserve to walk along the paths. OWLs are over. Exams are coming to a close. Enjoy yourself! Think of it as a birthday treat.”

“You already gave me a gift,” I reply.

“Well, think of this as an end of year treat!”

“Celebrating what? The palest kid of the term?”

Scorpius frowns. “No, that you _made_ it. You’ve survived this term. Come on.” He reaches to pull me up, and I struggle. “ _Please_ ,” Scorpius pleads.

I sigh, giving in. It would be nice to actually see the sun for once, and not through a classroom window or one of my herbology classes. “Fine.” I tug on my pair of shorts, startled by how loose they are. Scorpius eyes me, but doesn’t say anything. I know he’s noticed.

Hogsmeade is everything I’ve forgotten it was. It’s loud, it’s crowded, and the sun is _very_ bright. Scorpius holds on to my arm, leading me straight to the shop to eat. Lorcan and Lysander are waiting at a booth, each dressed differently. One of the twins comes up to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Glad you’re doing better Albie,” he says. I wince at the touch, and the other twin just shoots me a compassionate smile. My brain tells me that that’s Lorcan, the more considerate of the two.

“We got you something,” the one that didn’t hug me says. “Well, I did. Lys just signed their name. Scor said you’ve been doing a bit more art in your spare time.”

I nervously chuckle. “Not much else to do when you’re stuck in a dorm all term.”

“Sorry we weren’t able,” Lorcan apologizes. He hands over the gift. I unwrap it and find an old muggle polaroid camera. It’s nothing like the magical one I received from my parents. “It’s muggle. I thought maybe you’d find beauty in capturing the still moments opposed to magical ones.”

I turn the camera over in my hands. Scorpius looks at me, and I in turn look back at him. Lorcan is right, it does feel fitting to me. “Let’s take one,” I decide. Scorpius grins, Lorcan grinning back at him. We press in to the small frame of the photograph and I press the button down, letting the still image slowly print out. Lysander scowls when the picture doesn’t move. I smile.

“Oh, one of me and Albie?” Scorpius asks. He grabs at the camera and hands it over to Lorcan. Lorcan nods and smiles, instructing Scorpius to say cheese. He does, smile nearly breaking his cheeks with how hard he’s grinning. I too, force out the smallest of smiles.

“Smile bigger, Al,” Lorcan instructs me. I try once again and Lorcan shakes his head. “Bigger,” he instructs. “Like you mean it.”

I feel Scorpius’ lips collide to my cheek as Lorcan presses the button down. He hands me the polaroid photograph. There, captured in a still frame was my best friend’s pink lips smashed on to my pale pink cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	13. Rockaway Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus starts to turn things around with the help of an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind responses! This next chapter is when things start to really click for Albus! Chapter title is from The Ramones song, Rockaway Beach. Albus is really gay for that band.

When I stepped off the platform after the long haul of fifth year, Mum and Dad enveloped me in the largest hug, and Dad gave Mum a look indicating that it was the end of an era. Now, they only had two school aged kids, and one Hogwarts graduate.

James, like Mum, had been signed to a professional quidditch team. Once the end of the holidays came around, James was off to quidditch camp, practicing and getting ready for his Puddlemere career. He was set to go through mandatory training before he started his career. Mum said it was like boot camp, that he would soon learn the feeling of muscles he didn’t even know he had.

Dad laughs and clamps a hand tight to James’ shoulder, telling him that he had to go through a boot camp with he was entering his auror training. They both glanced at me, smiling. I gave a weak one in return, but the feelings were mutual. I had survived my toughest year of Hogwarts, and my biggest health concern.

“Well Jamie,” Dad says proudly. “How was your final year of Hogwarts?”

James grins at our dad and then gives a small smile over in my direction. “Different,” he responds. He’s no longer quiet around me, things starting to mend between us. He was starting to become a bit friendlier towards me again, although that protective state is still there. He was starting to see me less as his sick baby brother, and more as his younger brother. “But in a good way. A learning year,” he responds. “Hey Mum, can I really choose anywhere for dinner tonight?”

“Of course,” Mum says. “You’re the graduate.”

“Great,” he says, tugging his trunk behind him. “Is Ted coming?” He asks, walking to the clunky blue minivan. He picks up his trunk and puts it into the back, not using his wand so he can show off his strength. He does the same for my trunk and my sisters.

“He is,” Dad replies with a nod. “But just Ted. Your Gran has planned a celebratory dinner on Sunday for your graduation and Al’s birthday.”

I used to adore my birthday being near the start of summer when I was a kid. It always meant I could have pool parties and celebrations at the local water park. But since going to Hogwarts, my birthday often falls in line with school, meaning all celebrations are when I get home. Gran usually hosts a Sunday dinner for my birthday at the Burrow, although this year it’s being combined with my brother’s graduation.

If I have never mentioned it before, let it be known now: I _hate_ long car rides. The muggle minivan was my mother and father’s attempt at playing muggle. They got it when Teddy was young, for when they were taking him around a lot. Mum kept it once she had children, enjoying how muggle it made her feel. No one ever gave her odd looks, especially when she had three kids in the van.

“Mum,” I whine halfway through the trip in the van. Mum whips her head around and summons a plastic bag, letting the bag drift to the back seat where I sit. I easily get car sick and floo sick, whereas Lily only gets sick in cars. This time, however, she’s feeling fine compared to me.

The trip home feels like forever, but when we pull up to the front of the house, I am relieved. Nothing about our house has changed since I’ve been gone, and that is the biggest relief. Trunks are summoned to each of our rooms, which have freshly made beds and are neatly tidied.

I rush straight to my bed to nap before we’re set for dinner. Even though I’m beginning to feel better, I still don’t have the most energy anymore. I feel exhausted, even though all I’ve been doing is sitting in a car and a train.

I sleep up until we’re set to leave for James’ graduation dinner. He tugs me out of bed and throws a button up shirt at me. “Mum says dress nice,” James replies. His eyes rake over my messy hair. It’s getting long enough where it can start to get messy again. “None of those joggers and jumpers you’ve been doing.”

I scowl, shoving him out the door. I sit on the bed and force my fingers to try and button up the buttons, squinting and ignoring the sickness I’m feeling. There’s a knock on the door which sends a jolt up my spine.

“In a minute, James!” I shout to my brother.

“It’s Mum.”

“Oh,” I respond, my heart sinking.

“How are you doing?” She asks, gently sitting on the edge of my bed. “Albie, that shirt’s way too large for you,” she says softly. She waves her wand and shrinks the button up so it fits better. “You went straight for a nap when you came home.”

“Tired,” I reply to Mum, yawning. She puts her hand on my forehead, humming to herself.

“No fever, but you look pale. Are you sure you’re feeling well, Albie? If this is too much for you, you can stay home and rest. I know you haven’t done a lot of high level activities in a while. How was the end of school?”

She probably meant OWLs, but I don’t talk about my tests. “I got to go to the final Hogsmeade date. Scor, Lorcan, and Lysander took me out to eat. It was nice. Then Scorpius and I finished a puzzle and I finished my book,” I told Mum. She looked worried when I told her I went out with my friends, and I had to reassure her that it was just lunch, then we went back to the castle. After she heard about my low stress level excursion during the final Hogsmeade weekend, she seemed more relaxed.

“If you’re feeling up to joining us, we best get a move on. Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m sure,” I decide. Being left out of a family activity because of my stupid decision was not something I wanted to do again. I had already missed the Burrow at Christmas, all of Hogsmeade, the school feast, as well as any extra activity that Hogwarts had to offer. It was about time I did something somewhat normal and fun.

I don’t regret going to dinner, nor do I regret laughing at James’ reenactment of some stupid Gryffindor prank the seventh years did. I don’t regret the surge of pride that floats through my stomach when Teddy tells me how my hair’s longer. I don’t even regret laughing at my dad’s corny dad joke. I was starting to feel normal this summer. It finally felt good to be feeling like I’m doing something other than bed rest and homework.

After James’ dinner, the summer went by like it usually did. We had our celebratory dinner and I felt a surge of regret when it became too much and I had to exit. There was too much going on, and when my cousin Fred pulled a cracker, my heart jumped and I had to be excused and let home.

Mum apologized for me, then escorted me through the floo and to my bedroom. I only slept for an hour before getting bored and going to sit on the front step of my house. I kept wondering what Scorpius was doing. I kept thinking about how he would take care of me when I was sick, or one of the stupid puzzles we would work on when I was bed ridden.

I pulled out my sketchbook and started to draw, maybe write Scorpius a letter when a voice pulled me away from my drawing.

“Albie?” The voice questions. “Albie _Potter_?” My head gazes up and my heart swells. There, in front of me is a brunette boy who is tall, taller than perhaps Scorpius, and he’s pretty tall. He’s wearing a faded _Ramones_ t-shirt with tears in the sleeve, the shirt clinging to his fit body. He has sunglasses perched on the top of his shaggy brown curls, brown boots on his feet. His long legs are stuffed into the tightest skinny jeans I’ve ever seen a boy wear. He’s holding an iced coffee in his hand.

He looks like he stepped off a runway, and I look down at my joggers and loose t-shirt. It’s something I stole from Teddy when I was younger, and I suddenly feel myself blush at my choice of clothing.

“Hi,” I greet back. His own eyes meet mine and he gives that infectious grin that I remember from my younger days.

“It’s me, Dylan. Remember? We went to primary together down the road and sat at the same table in year one.” He comes over and squeezes himself onto the steps beside me. He nudges my shoulder, grinning. “How’ve you been, Mate? Alright?”

“Alright,” I respond with a nod.

“Haven’t seen you in ages. Homeschool?” He asks, taking a sip of his ice coffee.

“Boarding,” I reply. “Tradition. Mum and Dad went and met there, so now we all go.”

“Shit. Mum would die if I went to boarding school.” He gives me a weak grin.

I give him an equally weak grin. “S’not at all like the films,” I tell him. “Not mine, at least,” I add on. Whether or not muggle boarding schools were was a different question. Hogwarts, however, was not at all like the schools on the films. The reasons why were obvious, but Dylan was muggle, so he didn’t know any different.

He takes a sip of his iced coffee again, stirring the straw in the cup. He smiles again at me. “We should get together again,” he decides. “If-if you want, y’know. Maybe go with the lads. I don’t know what you do during your hols, or whatever, but I mean—“He laughs awkwardly, plucking his straw. “I’m sure you probably have other friends or whatever,” he forces the laugh out.

“I-“ my heart pounds in my chest as I think of Scorpius. Scorpius, my only friend at school. I think of when I was younger, at my little group I used to tag around with. “No—“ I shake my head. “I mean, I’d like that. The lads. I mean, if they even remember me.”

Dylan chuckles. “I’m sure they do. You’re hard to forget.” His smile is kind, like Scorpius’, but with more wear and tear. “If you want, you can join us at _Smash_. They’ll probably be there this afternoon.”

“What’s _Smash_?” His eyes look down into mine as he rakes a hand through his messy curls. He gives me a tilted smile.

“Oh. It’s uh, it’s this little pub place. They do gigs sometimes and have food and drinks and stuff. It’s kind of our hangout. Most the food is shit American, but—“ he shrugs. “If you need to I can text you the address on your mobile,” he adds on.

“I-“ my heart panics and I realize how out of touch I’ve started to become with the muggle world. I don’t have a mobile phone, and Mum and Dad only have one for extreme rarities. Teddy had one, once, long ago, but I don’t know anything about them. “I don’t have my uh, mobile foam,” I tell him. My heart churns, expecting him to laugh at me. He doesn’t, and instead just smiles sympathetically.

“Mum had a hard time giving me one as well. You can have my old one if you want. It’s an old iphone. But it’s green,” he says with a smile. “I got a new one for my last birthday. If you want to come to my house and pick it up, you can. Mum and I haven’t moved.”

I jump up from my steps and peer behind me. “Uh, sure. Let me just tell Mum and uh, change from my joggers.” I blush, gesturing down at my clothes.

I run inside and change quickly, passing mum as I jog past. “Going to Smash with Dylan!” I call and Mum grabs my shoulder and stops me.

“Just a minute Albie. You’re going _what_ with _whom_?”

“Dylan,” I respond. “Primary school. Brunette curls. He invited me to lunch at this place. Can I go, Mum?”

She looks me over, putting the back of her hand on my head. “I don’t see why not. He’s always been a nice boy. When did you see him?”

“When I was out on the front steps drawing. He walked past and stopped to chat.”

“That was nice of him,” Mum adds on. She reaches over to ruffle my hair and then look down at my clothes. “You might want to change before you go. Be back before dinner,” she adds as I run up the stairs to change my clothes. I stop back in the kitchen as Mum hands me some muggle money. “That should be enough.”

“Thanks Mum!” I slam the front door shut, meeting the boy that was standing on my front steps.

“Great,” he says, starting to walk. “It’ll be great to have you back again.” He sips on his ice coffee as we walk in step. “I know they haven’t confessed, but they miss you. They’re just, you know, _men_ ,” he laughs. He looks at me, then tilts his smile, pushing the straw in his mouth. “I’m gay, if you haven’t guessed it by now.”

My smile softens. “Same. Just never had an appeal to girls.”

He laughs. “I think your anti-girl reputation in primary is proof enough. We’re here,” he says, stopping at his house. The house hasn’t changed at all. I still remember the times I went over to play when I was younger. “You can come in, Albie. You uh, you still go by Albie, right? I mean, I figured maybe but—“ He awkwardly opens the door for me, his mum answering his door slam immediately.

“Is that you Dylie?” She calls from the back of the house. “Please take your shoes off,” she says, coming into the front hallway. She stops with a blush, going to tuck hair behind her ear. “Oh, Dyl, you didn’t tell me you had company.”

“Mum, this is Albie. Albie Potter. Y’know, from primary.”

Her eyes spark as she meets mine. “Oh! Ginevra’s boy! How’s your mum doing? I haven’t seen her around much.”

“He goes to boarding school, Mum. Anyways, we’re going to my room, then t’Smash with the boys.”

She smiles kindly at me. “Don’t be a stranger, Albie. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Right, Mum, see, we’re kind of in a hurry,” Dylan presses, tugging my arm away from his mother. “Mums,” he laughs, opening the door to his room. His room is still the same tidy composure it was when I last entered it. All that has changed are posters on the wall, although many of them were added in our youth. There are some photographs of male models and some of some pop group that’s apparently dominating the muggle _and_ wizarding world in popularity. He sees me eyeing his posters and smirks. “Don’t judge, Mister I-have-some-footie-boy-on-my-wall.”

My eyebrows knit together as I try to recall who he’s referring to. Then I remember it’s Goncalo Flores and colour rushes to my cheeks. He thinks he’s a football player. “It’s just, my sister likes that group,” I tease. It’s no lie, Lily has an interest in some muggle pop group. “Not really my style.”

“Music is shit, but e’s hot.” He smirks back. “Their music isn’t really my thing. Not exactly my style. But they have fit bods and when the boys hear me jabber about fit lads they get into that hetro no homo shite. Um,” he says laughing awkwardly, going to his desk and pulling out the green device. “My old iphone. It still works, you just gotta charge it and stuff. We can stop by tesco and get you one of those minute cards for data and stuff. It’s wiped, so no dick pics.” He chuckles, then raises a brow at me for not laughing along. “I promise?” He questions me awkwardly.

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” I laugh awkwardly, looking at the device in my hands. My fingers touch the screen and Dylan eyes me warily. Maybe I should just confess that I’m a wizard to him and accept all my consequences. He already knows how fucked I am socially.

“Are you okay? It’s just a phone, it won’t explode or anything.”

I nod hesitantly. “I’ve just uh, never really…used one before.” My cheeks redden and I expect laughter.

“Really? _Ever_?”

“Never.”

“What do you _do_ at that boarding school?”

“Oh. Um, nothing really. We don’t—those things don’t really work there.”

“No reception,” he mumbles. “Or wifi? How do you _live_?”

I shrug my shoulders, feeling how heated my cheeks are. “Just do.”

“Fuck Mate,” he replies. “Good thing I’m saving you. Have at it, Albie. Join the world. Fucking _hell_ that must be torture.” I shrug again and he nudges my shoulder. “Just teasing you, Mate. Having a right laugh, yeah?” He chuckles. “Anyways, you got your bag, yeah? Here’s your ear phones, your charger, and your phone. Hook it up to your computer or whatever and you can put music on it. Good?”

I nod my head, tucking the phone into my bag. “Thanks.”

“No problem. C’mon, the lads probably’re wondering where we are. Ry’s a fucking drama queen if I ever.”

“How are they?” I ask him, following him down the stairs and out the door. I hold my hand up to wave goodbye to his mother, following my friend out the door.

“The gayest straight boys you’d ever meet. Ry’s—Ryan, but I’m guessing you know that, he’s such a _tool_. Proper chav.” I blink, confused. Wizarding world has _really_ impaired me with muggle slang and knowledge. “Okay, e’s not really. Kind o’ actually a good guy and he can afford McDonalds so not really. I dunno why I called him that.” He laughs awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He stares at the ground as he walks. “Sorry,” Dylan apologizes. “I don’t talk much and now I’m spewing shit. I don’t even know _why_ I’m nervous. Prolly cause it’ll be like good times again,” he rambles, and my heart immediately thinks of Scorpius and how he rambles when he’s nervous.

“S’okay. I’m really not that interesting.”

“But you are,” Dylan reconciles. “You go to boarding school and live on your own for months at a time and just _left_. I bet you have some wonderful life there instead of being stuck in this sad, sad town.”

“Dyl,” I reply. I reach out to grab his wrist. His jitters calm down as I grip his hand. “The most fun I had last school year was completing the book I’d been reading all term. I was dorm bound all term.”

“Detention?”

I shake my head. “Mental breakdown before winter hols. My thing acted up and my therapist ordered me to take it easy. It fucking _sucked_.” I expected him to laugh, or to be judging or something. Very few people knew the reality of my social situation. Mum had explained to my old friend’s parents when I was younger how I could be sometimes, but I figured it would have been forgotten along with all other primary memories I personally wanted to bury deep in the ground.

His smile warms me. “Remember when your thing acted up at the class party that one year? The teacher had to take you to the hall to calm down. “

“And Ashton pissed on himself because Ryan had milk out his nose.”

Dylan grins and pulls the door open as we arrive. The building isn’t much. It’s old brick with graffiti on the outside. Neon letters spell out smash, only the a is half lit making it read smush instead. The bell dings as I step inside, a booth near the side window occupied with two teenagers.

The floors are chipped with scuff marks and there’s a stage downstairs in the cellar, I’m told. It’s next door to this shoddy looking music store Teddy and I once visited. They have a lot of muggle vinyl, both new and used. A lot of old punk memorabilia line the walls of the store, while mock inspirational posters line the wall of this pub. Mixed in are American terms on various posters and some street signs.

“Hey,” Dylan says as he goes to the booth with the two teenagers. Even being apart since I was ten, I could still tell the two boys apart just by their mannerisms. Leaning on the booth with sunglasses laid cockily in his hair was the boy who was considered the _coolest_ kid as a child. He was the kid growing up that seemed to have every new toy, and the life other kids _wished_ they had. His parents were wealthy, and he was spoiled. For a boy with a father who worked in fashion, his own clothes weren’t much to look at.

He had on similar ripped jeans as I did, with a shirt that looked to have the sleeves chewed off. His blonde hair was tousled messily in a way that was eerily similar to how my brother wore his hair. He leaned forward and looked me over, studying me intensely as if he were to determine if I were good enough to join his group.

“New boytoy Dyl?” He asks, eyes raking over my appearance. His words are light, as he holds back a smirk with his bite.

“Old actually,” Dylan replies coolly. His tone is equal in pitch, and it’s hard to see how he went from the nervous boy to the confident one he is in this moment. “Albie Potter. Y’know,” he adds on. “Our old mate.”

Ryan chuckles. “Little Albie,” he muses. He raises a brow at me and smirks. “You’re still little,” he teases. I scowl and he grins. “You haven’t changed a bit. Have a seat,” he urges. “Where ya been?”

“Boarding school,” Dylan says quickly. “Shitty one too if I’ve ever.”

Ryan raises a brow. “No foam service or wiffy,” I say and Ryan snorts. Over in the corner Ashton stifles back a giggle.

“Albus,” he says and he holds his glass up. “Welcome back. Missed ya, Mate.” He smiles and puts his glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Didn’t know how much I missed you, ya quirky bastard. Fuck,” he laughs. “Ain’t that right, Ash?”

The boy beside him leans forward, going to take a sip of his drink. His dark hair is pushed up in a way that is obvious he’s trying to keep his fringe off his face. He doesn’t have sunglasses perched in his hair, or on his person. His clothes are equally ripped and torn like the others, his jeans cut off at the knees.

“Right,” he replies. He takes a sip of his own drink, then tugs on a chip, placing it in his mouth. “You been up’tmuch?”

I shake my head. “No. Just usual shit. School work, chores, draw and play guitar.”

Ashton’s eyes light up. “You play guitar? No shit, I play!”

I nod my head. “A little writing, well trying. I dunno. But yeah. Teddy taught me.”

They rack their brains to remember just who Teddy was. I can see them all thinking when Ryan is the first to remember. “The blue haired one, yeah? The cool guy. Well, cool when we were nine. Is he still cool? He looks like he’d be a tat artist or something rad.”

“He cuts hair.”

“Figured he’d be into something like that. He ever wanna do runway hair?”

I shrug. “I’ll ask him later.” Teddy has always said he had no problems going into the muggle world doing hair if he had the right offer. Right now, he’s trying to use Jamie’s new career as some sort of shop gimmick to drum up business.

Ashton lets out a loud snort. “Bro, but what about, _fuck_. You know.”

Dylan laughs. “Oh yeah. Don’t be givin’ that spot to someone else, Ry. She’d have your head _and_ your balls if you gave her career away.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Ryan’s girlfriend. She wants to quote _be the best runway hairdresser_ unquote.”

“She’s shit,” Ash replies with a smirk.

“She’s still _learning_ ,” Ryan defends. “Just a bit more practice. She’ll get better.”

It’s my turn to laugh, I feel myself fill with joy at my old group of friends. No one seems to be excluding me, filling me in on every joke I’ve missed out on. During our lunch, they all are eager to fill me in on group gossip, their school gossip, and even family gossip. Every inside joke is revealed to me. My heart sinks when I check the time, knowing that I’ve got to go back home for dinner.

“I gotta go,” I say. “Mum said be back by dinner.”

There’s no laughter or teases at my confession. Eyes fall and a disappointed voice comes out. I’m surprised that it’s not Dylan. It’s Ash’s.

“You’ll be back again, right?”

I shrug, looking at Dylan, then at the rest of the boys. Their eyes seem hopeful, like I’ll come back to them. “Maybe?”

“You better,” Ryan says. He wants to sound more threatening than he actually sounds. His threatening look is actually turning into a hopeful smile. “Or we’ll send a search party,” he teases. He grabs a napkin hastily and scribbles some numbers on it. “Our mobiles. Keep in touch, Albie.” I take the napkin and shove it into my pocket, giving them a wave as I leave the shop. It was a good visit, and seeing my old friends made me feel a comfort I hadn’t known I missed, but I did.

I ended up seeing them more than I thought I was. Aside from the afternoons where I had to do stupid medical appointments, or family orientated stuff, I spent my time at Smash with my friends. It was like old times, except better, since we were all old enough to not have parental supervision.

One lunch we were laughing and telling jokes when we saw a poster go out for an amateur night in the cellar. From what I’ve heard the boys had been to some of the gigs that were offered, although very few of them seemed impressed by the music. Ash had mentioned that his brother had done a few performances, back when he was in to that sort of thing. It was tonight, and tickets were only three pounds.

I somehow convinced Mum to let me stay out late, promising her that I’d be back by curfew and wouldn’t do anything to cause harm to myself, or drink muggle alcohol. We were at the gig for no more than ten minutes when Dylan politely stepped out the venue onto the stairs leading to the cellar. I followed along, Ry and Ash tagging behind.

“That sucks,” Dylan replies. “The guitar screeches, and the drum’s off beat. The singer’s voice is whiny and not in a cool way.”

“Could’ve spent that three pounds at Macca’s instead. I’m shit at guitar and even I know how to play those chords.”

I don’t know who said it. I can’t recall the exact moment that it popped into our heads. But the decision became mutual: we should start our own band.

Suddenly, our lunches were at Smash and our afternoons were spent in various basements and garages practicing. We practiced until our fingers had blisters and turned to callouses, and until our voices were raw in the afternoon. Practice ended when the mobiles would go off, indicating that someone’s mum had called.

We had been practicing for weeks on end when I turned up to band practice one day at a later time than I normally do. Ryan twirls a drum stick in his fingers, holding the cymbal with his other hand. Dylan sits on his stool with his bass on his lap, and Ashton has his guitar laying on it’s side.

“You’re late,” Ryan points out, still twirling his drumstick.

I nod. “I know. Sorry, but I’ve just come to inform you that my friend Scorpius is coming round for a few days.”

“He’s from your school, right?” Dylan asks.

Ryan snorts. “Scorpius. What kind of regal name is that?”

I must have sent forth some sort of glare or protective look because Ryan’s demeanor changed. “Er, his family’s kind of proper. Aristocratic. Those sorts.”

Ryan knits his brows together. “Like Dad and his clients. He live around here?”

I shake my head. “No. Up north.”

“Shall we give dear old Scorpius a welcome basket with his favourite crisps?”

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t you dare.” Ashton snickers, whispering something into Ryan’s ear who just smirks at me. I shoot a harsh glare back at him. “Scor will be over, so we’ll be around but probably not over.”

“Invite him,” Ash encourages.

I scowl. “Not a chance in Hell.”

“Aw, Albie’s ashamed of us. We’re like a family already.” The dark haired boy reaches to ruffle my hair. It flops to the side. I reach up to straighten my hair out and flip my finger up at my friends. There’s a chorus of snickers in the room.

“No, really, do,” Dylan says sympathetically. “I wanna meet ‘im. He sounds important to you.” He gives me an encouraging grin. “Maybe we could all meet at your pool or something. It’ll be fun.” He nudges me. “C’mon, Mate, give it a try?”

“If he’s okay with it?” I hold my breath. Scorpius will no doubt be interested in meeting my muggle friends. He is interested in all sorts of muggle activities. Last time he came over we went to the muggle library and he had the hardest time leaving. He loved everything from the muggle fiction books, to the children’s books. Fairy tales were his favourite, especially the German based ones. Turns out, his mum used to read them to him.

“Of course. Until then,” Dylan says and waves to me as I head out the door. The steps to my house feel quicker and slower as I eagerly await Scorpius’ arrival. He’s set for this afternoon, and I hope to Merlin that he isn’t early.

I haven’t seen him since we left the train at the start of the Summer. I had been spending nearly all my time with my muggle friends, but the pounding in my chest at the thought of seeing Scorpius again didn’t seem to go away. The evening couldn’t come fast enough. Mum chuckles as I pace back and forth in front of the fireplace.

In quick moments I see the floo light up and out pops my best friend and his father. My heart leaps with joy as Scorpius places his duffel bag on the ground. I have to hold back all urges to run and hug him. Mum comes in the room with a warm welcome. Scorpius dusts off his shoulders from the powder, mimicking the motions of his father.

“Draco,” Mum greets warmly. “Scorpius,” she adds, her eyes twinkling. “How are you?” She asks, inviting him in away from the fireplace.

“Good. How’s Albus?” He asks, looking over me. “Scorpius has said he’s doing better.” He laughs, lightly, then nods. “Thank you so much for allowing Scorpius into your home. He hasn’t stopped talking about it all Summer. You’d of think he was visiting the wizards of ancient Greece the way he’s gone on about your house.”

Mum nods in return. Their chat is polite chit chat, with dashes of awkward thrown in. This is only the second Summer Scorpius had been able to come over. Aside from polite conversations on the platform, the two hadn’t corresponded much.

“Is Pott-Harry in?” He asks, correcting his words from the childhood name he once called my dad.

“He’s at work,” Mum explains. “He’s over time on a case at the Ministry.”

“Oh well, uh, thank you again for allowing Scorpius into your home.”

Mum softly chuckles. “You’ve already said that, Draco. Scorpius is welcome anytime. You are too,” she adds, just in case.

“Oh, yes, thank you. We must do it again sometime,” he responds with a curt nod. “Be good Scorpius,” he says, going to hug his son before leaving.

Mum laughs, and Scorpius giggles. “He’s trying. Dad’s gotten better. Mum was better at this sort of thing.”

“He has,” Mum observes. “He talks to me now. Albus,” Mum says, turning to me. “Why don’t you help Scorpius settle in your room. Are you boys hungry?”

I shake my head, then grin over at my best friend. “C’mon,” I tell him, urging him to my room. It takes no time as Scorpius settles on to the cot that has been placed in my room. He turns to the window sill by the bed and grins at my pet ferret. “Hi Draco!” He chirps. “I brought you a treat!” He opens the cage and places the tiny treat inside, giving the creature a rub on the head.

Scorpius folds his legs in a crisscross pattern and grins at me. “How’re you feeling, Al?” His voice holds a hint of worry. “You look better,” he compliments. “Loads.”

“Okay,” I respond back. “Better I guess.”

“How’s your summer been?” He asks, raising a brow as I pick at the comforter on my bed. “You’ve said in your letters you met your old muggle friends.”

“It’s better now,” I reply quickly, and Scorpius’ face lights up. His pale cheeks turn pink. “The guys, they want to come over one day. We really don’t have too,” I tell Scorpius.

“Nonsense. I can’t wait to meet your muggle friends. It’ll be fun.” He hums to himself, looking around my room to see what has changed. Nothing, aside from a few new photographs pinned to the wall and a half finished painting on the floor. He looks over at me and grins. “Dad and I went to France again to see Mum’s side and stuff, and it was _so_ boring. I love history, and I love my Greengrass grandparents, but they don’t see me much and they seem to forget I’m _sixteen_ and not six. Not that I didn’t appreciate the candies,” he laughs, and my heart swells with how much I’ve missed that laugh. “What about you? Did you have a good birthday dinner?”

“I had to leave early. It was too much for me to handle.”

“Oh no.” Scorpius’ smile falls. “Did Albus the Anxious appear?”

“ _What_?” A smile cracks my lips.

“Albus the Anxious. It’s a bit like Malfoy the Unanxious but you’re anxious and I’m trying _not_ to be anxious and how many times did I just say the word anxious?” He rambles, smiling awkwardly.

“Five,” I reply.

Scorpius giggles. “Sorry. It’s just, you’re starting to feel better and I can see it on your face and I’m just really happy,” he says. “Can I hug you? Do we hug now? _Can_ we hug now?”

“Yes.” I allow Scorpius onto my bed and he envelopes me into a hug. It’s comforting and warm, and I enjoy every bit of it. I can smell his shampoo as he hugs me, realizing how nice it smells.

“Oh!” Scorpius goes over to his bag and pulls out a box. It’s all French candies and chocolates. “I brought some to share. I know your mum is still a bit strict on the sweets. Oooh,” Scorpius looks at my green mobile device. “is that a telly phone?”

I nod. “My muggle friend gave it to me. It’s _really_ neat. You can play videos and films and music on it. It’s called an eye foam.”

“I saw those! When we were in muggle Paris, Dad went to look at some clothes and I saw those in a shop nearby.”

“Your dad shops in muggle Paris?”

“He has a weakness for designer suits, Albus. He has a walk-in wardrobe full of them. Mum had a weakness for designer handbags. She didn’t care much about labels on clothes, but she adored her handbags. It’s a mum thing, I think.”

“Mum has one handbag. I don’t think it’s designer. It’s just kind of a black hole of sorts. It used to hold everything when we were little. So did Gran’s.”

“It’s a mum thing,” Scorpius reassures me. “Did James go to his boot camp yet?”

“No, he starts in August. I haven’t been home much to see him practice, but him and Mum are out there tons.”

“What have you been doing?”

“My muggle friends,” I say, and then turn red. “I mean; I’ve been _with_ my muggle friends. We’re in a band.”

Scorpius’ eyes grow wide. “Really? Like The kind you like? That’s—Albie, that’s _great_.” He beams at me. “I talked to the twins and Lorcan owled me some theories and studies he read up on, and I was worried you’d be bored and lonely. But a band! I knew you were good at guitar,” he rambles again and I laugh.

“We’re just kind of jamming around. It’s not even really a proper thing yet.”

“Can I see you play?”

“Er—“ I rub at the back of my neck nervously. We’ve never performed in front of anyone, and Scorpius has only seen me play a handful of times. Most of the time I stop when he comes in to the dorm. I was still a bit shy with performing in front others. I didn’t know how the rest of the guys would feel, but considering we’ve yet to have a proper name, it’s safe to assume that they’re not ready for a performance either. “Maybe?” Scorpius seems satisfied with that answer, before turning his attention to another topic.

“Albie, wake up,” Scorpius says to me one morning. I can hear loud buzzing noises and dings and rings. I flinch when Scorpius grabs my shoulder to shake it. He leans back. “Albie, your thing is making noise,” he tells me.

I reach over to my bedside table and grab my mobile device. Grumbling, I slide my finger on the screen. It’s become fairly easy to adapt to, and I press the green circle. It’s one of my muggle friends doing one of those video calls.

“Albie,” he greets. I grumble in response, squinting my eyes to focus on the person on the screen. I make out some brown curls.

“Hey Dyl,” I say, and he smiles.

“Morning sleepy head. Lads wanna come over and meet Scorpius. Pool, your place?”

“I-“ Scorpius cuts me off and grabs the muggle device from my hands.

“Sure! I’ll make sure Albie’s up and outside.”

“Are you sure you can wake him?”

“You’re talking to the one who makes sure he’s in class on time. See you in a few!” I can’t see as Scorpius presses the red circle ending the call, but the next thing I know is he’s got his hand on my cheek. “Albie,” he sing songs. “Time to get _up_.” He leans dangerously close to my face and blows on it, backing up as I sit up.

I run my fingers through my hair. It’s finally gotten to the stage where it moves again. “You’re impossible,” I tell Scorpius with a tease.

“But I’m up,” Scorpius replies back. “Let’s go swimming.”

“Okay, okay. Let me just get ready then.” I heave a sigh and rummage through my drawer putting my swimming costume on. It’s a tad larger than it was and my cheeks redden. Scorpius’ eyes wander down and he frowns. “Eyes are up here,” I tease my best friend, words coming out uneasy. Scorpius is the only one who really knows the extent of my wellbeing. He was there for every day of my post-hospital recovery. His look is sympathetic as he gazes at my shorts and tank top thrown over top.

“Your shirts really loose,” Scorpius comments. “Have you been eating?”

I nod quietly. “I don’t have the same appetite anymore. My healer says that’ll probably not change. I also won’t get any taller. My growth’s fucked. Most of my old shirts don’t fit either. They’re pretty loose.”

His look softens and he nods along with me. “Well, swimming should be fun. I can’t wait to meet your friends!” I’m thankful Scorpius changes the subject. I don’t want to go back into discussions involving my recovery state. It’s always awkward, especially because it’s the first thing that someone asks me lately.

Scorpius digs into his bag and pulls out some cherry red designer sunglasses. They look like the same brand that Ryan would wear and brag about. Scorpius places them on top of his bright blond locks, rummaging into his bag for sun cream. He spends the next fifteen minutes spreading it on his body, grinning at me as he rubs some on my cheeks. “Don’t want to get burned!”

I wipe the cream off my cheek. “I’m not as pale as James, thanks. Or Lils.”

“You can burn even when clouds are showing. James isn’t even pale.” Scorpius grins and wipes some sun cream on the bridge of my nose. I scowl, but don’t wipe it off. Instead, I rub in the sun cream and head down the stairs with my best friend.

James greets the two of us, ankles crossed as he sits in the kitchen slurping down a bowl of cereal. “Mornin’ Albie, Scorp,” he says, nodding at the two of us. “Scorp, I see you tamed the troll,” my brother teases. I shoot him a glare, going to pour myself a bowl of cereal.

“Sod off, James.”

He laughs, going to place his bowl in the sink. He goes back to the table and grabs his wand, going to wave it and have the dish fly back into the cupboard. “Little cleaning charm Mum taught me.” He tucks his wand behind his ear and grins, waving fingers as he leaves. “Tootles, Scorp. Watch out for Albie, he likes to make a splash, that one.” With that, my brother saunters off.

“Ignore him,” I tell my best friend. “He hasn’t even started boot camp yet, and he already thinks he owns the place.”

“He’s excited,” Scorpius defends my older brother. “Nothing wrong with that. I’m excited, too.” He grins, seeing the pool in the back. Scorpius goes out the sliding back door and takes a seat on the patio chair. I watch as he carefully lays his towel out on the chair, perching his sunglasses to shield his eyes. He lays on the chair soaking up the sun, letting the sun reflect off his blond locks.

He removes his sunglasses and perches them up on his head when he hears some loud noises coming through the back gate. Three boys clad in swimming costumes make their way through, depositing towels and flip flops on the pavement.

“Guys,” I introduce. “This is Scorpius. Scorp, the lads.”

“Please to meet you,” Scorpius responds politely. “Albie has said many things about you.”

There’s a snort of laughter. Ryan looks at me, shaking his own messy dark blond locks and pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. His eyes twinkle. “What’s up with your accent mate? You sound as if you’re ‘bout to meet the queen.”

“Excuse Ryan,” Dylan quickly apologizes. He gives Scorpius a kind smile. “His dad may be classy, but he’s just kind of assy. I’m Dylan,” Dylan says, holding his hand out. The two meet eyes and there’s a mutual look. They’re both kind, although while Scorpius is more cunning, Dylan is a bit more willing to be reckless. “It’s the Australian in him,” Dylan adds, jabbing his thumb at the dirty blond.

“He’s Australian?”

“Half,” Dylan responds. “His Mum is. So if you start to not understand him it’s because he thinks he’s cooler than he is. He uses a lot of Australian wording. You’ll get used to it. That’s Ashton,” Dylan adds, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the dark haired boy who is sitting beside Ryan. “Ry’s best friend. They’re usually seen side by side.”

“Because he won’t leave me the fuck alone,” Ryan replies, smirking at the boy that often tags along with him. His laughter is playful, pushing the aforementioned tag along into the pool.

“Shit!” Ashton cries out. “Fucking bollocks, man! My mobile was in there!” He swims to the edge of the pool and climbs out, shaking his hair like a wet dog. The sopping fringe falls into his face. He scowls, pulling items from his pocket and placing them on a nearby table. Checking the mobile device, he heaves out a dramatic sigh. “Mum would _murder_ me if I ruined my phone. Not all of us can afford to buy new ones each month, Ry.” The boy presses his mouth into a thin line. However, the glare leaves as he walks by, casually shoving the dirty blond into the water. He shrieks, and the rest of us just laugh.

Ryan swims to the edge of the pool and rests his chin on the edge. “What d’you do for fun Scorpius? Shit that’s long to say.”

“Read,” Scorpius responds.

“Scorpius is near top of our class,” I quickly interject. “He likes to study and likes history and stuff. I took him to the library last summer and he nearly _cried_.” I don’t mention the reason being because he had never been to a proper muggle library. Either way, it still makes him appear like the loveable dork he is.

“Well, Rose and I are nearly tied,” Scorpius adds on. “Albie’s cousin.”

“The know-it-all,” Ashton replies.

“The buzzkill,” Ryan adds.

“You’ve met Rose?” Scorpius flushes.

“She was at all of Albie’s birthdays. Tried to play boss to us.”

“Hated us,” Dylan laughs.

“Rose got upset because my birthday was not always the fun she envisioned. She didn’t like the water park party because she kept getting splashed and forced down slides and stuff. My parties bored her, because they were always themed around mu- “I catch myself. “Around things she didn’t care for.”

Scorpius nods in understanding. “She’s still a bit like that, isn’t she?” He chuckles to himself.

I raise my brow. “Says the boy who had a crush on her.”

“That’s old,” Scorpius defends himself quickly. “That was ages ago. Over it now.” His cheeks redden. He stares at me before forcing his attention back to the pool. He slides his sunglasses back over his face.

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Ashton sing-songs

My heart swells in my chest. Scorpius _can’t_ have a crush on me. He just _can’t_. Scorpius likes Rose, even if he denies it. Scorpius doesn’t _see_ me that way. He _can’t_ see me that way. I swallow hard and look over at Scorpius who smiles back at me.

He _can’t_ have a crush on me, can he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave kudos and comments. If you have any questions, feel free to reach me at [My Tumblr ](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)


	14. Infinite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus gets his first real taste of freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your kind words <33

Scorpius leaving was the worst part of the summer. He, along with my muggle friends, got along great. Even after the awkward Ryan encounter, in the end Scorpius befriended them. He liked my muggle friends, and liked that I had someone to hang out with when I wasn’t at school with him. He grew supportive of my friends, and even my band. We did manage to play for him at the end of his trip. It was more Ryan’s idea than it was mine, but we actually weren’t as terrible as I thought. Scorpius had said we were actually pretty good, and that we should record our own stuff.

Even if it was one person’s opinion, we took that opinion to heart. The band worked harder after Scorpius’ departure. We played even more, trying to get gigs and performances. All was going well until the day an owl swooped into my kitchen, dropping two letters on to the table.

Mum walks in to the kitchen, eyes hovering over the two letters. When Dad walks in, he looks at them and smiles at me, and at my sister who was sitting at the table.

“Hogwarts time already? Where has the summer gone? Al will be a sixth year, Lily a fourth, and James is already off at training.”

I am not looking forward to going back. Ever since I spent the summer hanging out with my friends and practicing with my band, the thought of having to leave that makes my heart ache. In weeks time I will be back in school, working on my NEWT level classes. I’ll be back to stress, and back to the world I don’t like partaking in.

“Oh, Al, your OWLs arrived!” Mum grins at me, reading the letter. “You did great, Sweetie.” She bends over to kiss the top of my head. Dad takes the letter from Mum’s hand and smiles.

“Good job, Sport.” He ruffles my hair. “I never did like History of Magic either. Or Divination. What classes are you taking for your NEWTs? Have you decided on a focus?”

I take the letter from my father’s hands and glance at my grades.

_Albus Severus Potter has Achieved:_

_Passing: Outstanding-O Exceeds Expectations-E Acceptable-A Failing: Poor-P Dreadful-D Troll-T_

_Care of Magical Creatures- E_

_Divination-D_

_Transfiguration-E_

_Potions-O_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts-A_

_Astronomy-E_

_Herbology-A_

_Muggle Studies-O_

_Charms-O_

_History of Magic-D_

My heart flips as I read my grades. I didn’t do horrible. I didn’t fail everything like I feared I would. Sure, some courses were less than desirable with my marks, but other than that I didn’t do horrible. I only failed two courses, and they were the two courses I knew I wasn’t going to continue. I had talked with my head of house last spring, and the courses I needed most I had passed.

“I’m taking transfiguration, muggle studies, potions, and charms for my NEWTs,” I tell my dad. I nervously bite my lip. “I think I want to study healing.”

Dad’s eyes widen. “Healing? Al, that’s-that’s wonderful!” Dad doesn’t say anything negative about my NEWT decision. He just smiles, patting me on the back. “What’s made you decide on healing?”

“I don’t know,” I respond, shrugging. “It just seems fit. I just don’t want people to end up like me, I guess.”

“Al,” Dad says softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve had some troubles, but you’re not a bad kid.”

“No, Dad, I mean, I want don’t want someone to feel lost in the wizarding world with a muggle disability.”

Dad smiles warmly at me. He brings me in for a hug, much to my protests. He ruffles my hair and presses a kiss to the top of my head. Mum comes around to envelope me in a hug as well, Lily joining in. Mum reaches over to ruffle my hair, giving me a grin. “Al,” she says to me. “I think it’s time you get a cut.” She smiles warmly at me, going to press a kiss to the side of my head. “We can go tomorrow when we get your things for school. Lily,” Mum adds on, looking at my little sister. “We have to get your robes tailored. They’ve gotten short on you.”

“Daddy!” Lilly is rushing down the streets of Diagon Alley. “I want a new hair band this year,” my sister says, chatting my father’s ear off about everything she’s seen and wants on her way to get her school things.

“Here Al,” Mum says, handing me some gold. “Go get yourself a cut and meet me in front the Leaky Cauldron when you’ve finished.”

I nod, running a hand through my hair. I mess it around, noticing how it’s not quite as long as I’ve of liked it to be. It still hasn’t reached the length it was a year ago when I first got rid of the haircut that used to match my brother’s.

I’m about to head in to the smaller shop Teddy has when the shop beside it catches my eye. It’s a place for witches and wizards to get magical tattoos and piercings. I think about some of the boys in the punk posters we keep on the walls where we practice, and the ones my friend Ashton’s brother used to wear on his shirts. I run my finger over my lip and think to myself, deciding that this is something I want.

Passing by Teddy’s shop, I duck out and go in next door. A young witch with bubblegum pink hair and a ring through her nose greets me. “Got an appointment?” She asks, boredly. She pops her droobles gum in my face.

“No,” I say nervously. My hands start to sweat and I look around. She stares down at me.

“You look a little young. You of age?”

“Y-yeah,” I reply, hoping she doesn’t notice me. She doesn’t seem to care too much, studying me up and down. She pops her gum again.

“You look familiar.” She stares at me, scrunching brows as she puts two and two together. “You’re Potters kid. The quidditch one right?” She’s mistaken me as James, the one who actually _is_ of age. My heart races and I nod quickly, gulping. My heart is pounding in my chest. “What can I do for you kid?”

“L-lip ring,” I tell her nervously. I check my surroundings as my heart pounds in my chest. She gives me a raised eyebrow and pops her gum again.

“You nervous?” She asks me, tone that of one that Professor Binns tends to use. It’s a drone, a tone that indicates she’s bored with me.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, using the back of my hand to wipe at my dripping sweat.

“Don’t be,” she says, rolling her eyes and calling to a guy in the back. A muscle-y guy with a tattoo sleeve looks at me, then at her.

“He of age?”

“Yup,” she replies, going to go back to the comic she was reading.

“Potter’s kid?”

“Eldest. The quidditch one.”

He squints at me, but doesn’t say anything to her. “Come back, kid. You want a lip piercing, you said?” He asks, leading me to the room in the back. I sit on a cold chair, eyes wide as he uses his wand to sterilize a needle. It’s a slight pinch on my lip and the little ring is slid in, clogging up any chance of blood spilling out.

It’s over quicker than I can say the spell he used and he conjours me a mirror. “What do you think?” He asks, as I carefully touch it. He gives me after care instructions for my new piece of body jewelry. A small smile escapes my lips. I like how it feels, how it looks. It makes me feel like the boys on the posters. 

“Thanks,” I say and hand over the gold, going out the shop and ducking as I go past Teddy’s. I shove my hands in my pocket, wandering down the street and going to meet inside of The Leaky Cauldron. I give a sheepish grin as I take a seat at the bar, the woman coming over and setting a mug of butterbeer down.

“Hi Auntie Hannah,” I say, taking the glass and pressing it to my lips. The ring makes a small clink noise as it touches glass.

“Albus Potter,” she says, wiping a glass with a towel slung over her shoulder. “How are you feeling? You look a lot better since I saw you last.” She smiles, shaking her head as she notices my lip. “You and Teddy Lupin,” she quips. Her tone is good natured and friendly. “The most good natured boys with the strangest taste. Are you shopping for school?”

“Mum said to meet me here.”

“Oh, good. Oh—“ My Godmother looks over her shoulder and grins as my Godfather enters the room. “Hey Nev.” Her voice becomes more chipper as she kisses him on the cheek.

“Hey. ‘Lo, Al.” He reaches over to ruffle my hair. “How’s my favourite godson?”

I reach up to straighten out my hair, going to dip my head and sip on my beverage. “Good. Meeting Mum, shopping, the sorts.” He turns to his wife and chuckles.

“Gettin’ piercings now, are we?” He reaches over to lightly tap my silver ring in my lip. “Got you something,” he says and I perk up. Uncle Neville was always special to me because he was a relative I didn’t have to share. He was _my_ godfather. We had no blood relation, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He always liked to surprise me with little gifts. While at school he played by the rules and didn’t give me special treatment, at home, I was, in all ways, his favourite.

He bends down behind the counter and pulls out a small box. “Heard you’ve been doing a lot of art last term. Thought maybe you’d like some new paints and canvas. The brushes are real unicorn hair. Paint us something, will you?” He asks, reaching to ruffle my hair again. I look at my paints and canvas and smile. I hadn’t been doing as much art last term as he thought. Mostly it was the same piece over and over. The redundancy of being trapped in the same location and torturous routine. My art had improved, however, even though I had only started painting more this past summer when I wasn’t occupied with my band.

“I’m in a band,” I tell him. His eyes widen and he just laughs, going to refill my glass for me.

“Is that so? My godson, the rockstar. Who are they? Do I know them?”

“My muggle friends. From primary.”

“The weird kid with the Australian accent and those sorts? The ones that made Rose cry?”

“Those’re the ones.”

“Well, I have no doubt you’ll do well. You’re rather talented at guitar. Art is as natural to you as your dad is to quidditch,” he compliments. “Or me to plants. Speaking of, how were your results?”

“A in herbology. Not a P like I thought. O in potions, charms, and muggle studies.”

“I couldn’t get an O in potions if my life depended on it. Oh, Ginny, hi.”

I turn my head around and notice Mum coming in my direction. She has bags of different school supplies in her hands. Most the bags are mine. Scrunching her brows together, Mum studies me for a minute. She gives an exasperated sigh. “Albus Severus Potter,” she says, heaving out air. Neville looks at Hannah and takes that as a cue to tend to other guests. It wasn’t crowded yet. “Al, what did I tell you to do with the galleons I gave you?” She asks. Her tone has gotten thicker, less comforting. She had that _mum stare_ that she must’ve inherited from Gran.

“Get a haircut,” I gulp.

“What did you do with the money instead?” My voice weakens and I point at my lip. She takes a hand through her fiery locks and sighs. “Albus, _why_ did you reallocate my galleons for a piercing and _not_ a haircut like I’ve asked?”

“It’s not long,” I whisper.

“But it’s scruffy,” Mum replies. “It’s not very neat looking. It’s getting wayward and messy again. It may not be as long as it was, but it certainly needs some taming. Al,” she sighs.

“Mum,” I protest back. She gives me a look and shakes her head.

“I’m not going to make you remove it. After the year you’ve had—“ She pauses, then shakes her head again to correct herself. “Next time please just ask. If you can take care of it, I don’t have any problem with you keeping it. And if your dad asks,” Mum says and her tone lightens up some. “I let you. But next time you’re _going_ to get your hair cut,” she reasons.

I scowl at my mother, but don’t say anything. She shakes her head, sitting down and ordering herself a sandwich and crisps. She turns to me, glancing at the piercing again and inhaling a breath, then exhaling a sigh. “Have you eaten anything Al?”

Auntie Hannah reappears, sliding over another glass of butterbeer. “Has he not been eating?”

“He has, just not as much. Not as much as James at his age.”

She laughs. “Or your brother.”

Mum just laughs. “Order him some chips,” she decides for me. “Did you thank your godfather for the gift?” She adds, brushing a hand over my hair. She peers at the canvas and paints.

“Yeah,” I respond, swatting her hand away from my hair. She looks to Uncle Neville for an accurate answer.

“Of course,” he responds. “Oh look, here come the rest of the clan. Hey Harry, Lily.” Auntie Hannah goes to prepare more mugs, filling them up with butterbeer and pumpkin juice.

Lily takes a spot next to me and grins as she notices my lip. Her eyes widen, and she grins at me. “You’re trying to look like those boys, aren’t you?”

“What boys?” Dad asks, turning to face me. “Albus,” he says, noticing the shine from the ring. “What’s that in your lip? No, I know what it is, but _why_?” I shrug my shoulders, and Dad shakes his head. “Albus,” he says as he scrubs his hand over his face.

“Dad,” I bite back.

“My godson, the rockstar,” Neville teases.

Dad shakes his head. “Your godson, the grounded. Merlin, Nev, have you _heard_ those boys play?” Dad sips his butterbeer as Mum rests her hand on his shoulder.

“Harry,” she says, in a tone that sounds slightly like a warning. Her eyes narrow and she mouths something to him. Lily pays close attention and then glances at me, nodding her head. I sigh, running my fingers over the water imprint from the glass. It’s the sign that my dad is told to be more lenient because of what happened.

Uncle Neville notices my gesture and comes back over to me. “You okay, Bud?” He asks, and I shrug. He sighs, forcing a smile. “Let’s go for a chat, Al.”

“No thanks,” I mumble.

“Al,” he says, this time indicating that it wasn’t a choice. I get up from the counter and follow my uncle. I shove my hands in my pocket as he leads me out the back door to the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. “Are you alright?” He asks.

“Fine,” I mumble.

“You can tell me, you know. It’s got to be hard to recover from such a traumatic event. People treat you like you’re delicate and brave. People don’t know how to respond. We sometimes do things we wouldn’t ordinarily do, or do things we feel compelled to do. Did you know after the war your Uncle Ron and dad shaved their heads? I didn’t step foot in Hogwarts for years after. Sometimes we do crazy things when we come out of something bad.”

“That’s what my therapist has said.”

“He sounds smart.” Uncle Neville wraps an arm around me. “Even though you’re not taking herbology at NEWT level, you can still come talk to me, whenever, okay? I won’t laugh, Albie. I know what it’s like to be the outcast. And paint, Albie,” Uncle Neville encourages. “And play music. Release energy and feelings you need to release.” He envelopes me in a hug, much to my protest. “Come on,” he says, wrapping arms around me and leading me back inside.

My chips are gone when I get back and Mum and Dad are waiting to leave. The floo is all set and I follow my family to the fireplace. I arrive back home to the loud sound of my mobile going off. Running to my room, I grab it before the person on the other end hangs up.

“ _Albie, Albie Albie,”_ the voice slurs on the other end. There’s a loud hiccup and some laughter. Other faces smush together into the tiny screen. “We’re going to Reading!” The voices cry out in what was supposed to be unison. There’s some staggering from Ryan and Ashton. “Taking me car an’ camping an’ it’ll be ace! You comin’?” I look back behind me at my trunk on the ground. I have to pack for school, but that can wait. I have only a week left, and going to Reading would mean I’d miss the goodbye party at my Gran’s house.

“Mum,” I cry out. She runs to the room. “Mum,” I repeat.

“What is it, Albie?” She asks. “I was folding laundry.”

“The lads are going to Reading. It’s for a festival. Can I go, Mum?”

“Al,” she says, peering at my room. “You’d miss your Gran’s party. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Mum, I don’t mind missing Gran’s.”

“That’s not what I meant Al.” She puts the back of her hand on my head. “I guess. Please reach us if anything happens. Take your mobile. Leave your wand,” she instructs.

I grin at my mother, reaching out to hug her. “Thanks, Mum!” I go back to my mobile and call the lads back, grinning.

“Mum said yes!”

There’s a loud cheer and the boys laugh. “Meet us at my house. We leave tomorrow.”

I hang up, throwing some items into my rucksack. Mum shakes her head. “Not so fast, Al. I’m driving you over. I want to talk to you before you go,” she says. I groan, but she raises her eyebrows. “This is a major step for you. This isn’t like school.” She grabs the keys to the muggle minivan, kissing my dad’s cheek as we leave.

“It’s just the lads,” I tell her. “You know them.”

“I know. I just want you to be safe, Al. Festivals are a bit wild. I want you to have fun, but please don’t do anything you’ll regret. Be careful around other people. Don’t take anything from people you don’t know. Be safe,” she says, pulling in front of my friend’s house. “Want me to walk you in?”

I shake my head rapidly, grabbing my bag. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Call!” She shouts from the van.

I pace on the front porch as the door opens and Ryan’s older sister opens it. She tosses her long blond hair over her shoulder, noticing me and rolling her eyes. “Rylie! Albie’s here! He’s in his room,” she says, crossing her arms. “I can’t wait for you bunch to leave.” I ignore her, running up the stairs to my friend’s room.

It’s massive, with posters plastered everywhere of various punk bands and girls on cars. He has a large bed, and there’s a blow up mattress on the floor for us to sleep on. Dylan and Ashton are pressed on the floor with fabric markers in their hands, while Ryan sits on the bed with a smug look on his face.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, and Dylan sits up, pushing a curly lock out his face.

“Making a flag. Figured we’d put our bands name,” he says, at the same time as Ryan says, “waiting for Monnie.”

I raise my brow, confused. “Girlfriend,” Ash tells me. “She’s his _whole entire world.”_ He laughs, mocking the girl who wasn’t in the room.

The aforementioned girl enters the room at the same time, stopping as she sees me. She protectively grabs her bleach blond hair in her well-manicured fingers. “Ry Ry, who’s this?”

“Oh, that’s Albie. Potter,” he adds on. “He was in our primary class. Sat with us.”

She places a finger to her lips. “ _Oh_. Hi.” She grimaces at me, looking me up and down. She makes a disgusted look at my worn t-shirt. “Ry Ry,” she chirps. He grins over at her. “Can I do his hair? _Please_.”

Ashton snorts, which causes Dylan to snuff back a giggle. Ryan looks over at her. “Sure,” he says, waving his hand. “You don’ mind, do ya, Albs?”

I scrunch my hair with my hand. It’s still not as long as I’ve of liked it to be. “Sure,” I decide. “But don’t cut it? I’m trying to grow it out.”

“Oh, yay!” She chirps, grabbing my hand and taking me to Ryan’s large bathroom. She parks me in front of his vanity. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m an _expert_. I think you need some colour.” She takes one of the fluffy towels from his shower door, draping it around my shoulders.

“Yeah? Like what? Blue?” I think back to my tried attempt at charming my hair blue. It didn’t work the best, and waiting for the charm to fade was the worst part of arriving on the train fourth year. Aside from a few other things, of course.

“No,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I’m thinking blond. Black with a blond streak. Don’t worry,” she reaffirms to me. “I’m an _expert_.” She grabs some plastic bowls she has starts to mix up some bleach in a plastic bowl. She giggles, starting to clip away portions of my dark hair. She grabs a portion in the middle, slathering on copious amounts of bleach.

I wrinkle my nose at the smell. “Are you done?” I ask her, and she looks down at her nails, inspecting them.

“Oh!” She looks at my hair and giggles. “Oopsie! But don’t worry, it’s still, like, pretty cool.” She has me rinse the bleach out and I peer in the mirror at my newly blond streak. It’s a little harsh of a yellow colour, but it doesn’t look _horrid_. I quite like it, especially having it mixed in with my natural colour.

I go back to the lads and they all grin at me. “Wicked,” Ash says. “Matches your lip ring.” He chuckles, and Dylan looks over.

“Oh, I didn’t catch that! Looks wicked, Al. Proper cool.”

“Fucking tits, Al,” Ryan adds on. “Love it.”

“So…Reading…whose going? I mean, performing.” I already knew it was a music festival. Teddy had been once years and years ago.

“Everyone. Best lineup I’ve seen in _years_.”

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. In the early hours.”

“Oh,” Monnie whines. “I wish I could go,” she coos into Ryan’s ear. She presses her lips to his neck and we all wince.

“Nah Babes, you’d get your little skirt all muddy.” He presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“Yuck. I wouldn’t want that. It’s _designer_ ,” she stresses.

“That’d be a shame,” Dylan responds back. His voice is almost matching hers in pitch. Ash and I snicker.

“I know!” She squeals, unaware of the joke on her. “Well, bye bye Ry Ry,” she says, waving her perfectly manicured fingers at her boyfriend.

As soon as she leaves the room, the three of us burst in to laughter. “Ry Ry?” I asked, and Ashton snickers.

“She’s something, isn’t she?”

“Something is an understatement,” I laugh, causing my friends to laugh a long with me. Ryan is the only one who isn’t laughing.

“She’s hot,” he points out. “And easy.” Dylan and I wince, scrunching our noses at his confession. He shoots us a look. “Whatever. Like you ponces understand birds.” I raise a brow to Dylan who just shakes his head. “Let’s get some shut eye. Long trip a head.”

My first real road trip with my muggle friends is something I didn’t ever expect I’d experience. Four boys crammed in a pickup truck with loud music and a variety of snacks is one of the most freeing experiences. It’s just us, our shit, and the open road. We stop partially for lunch, and sometimes for bathroom breaks, but aside from that we speed heavily down the long road singing along to every song that comes up on Ryan’s playlist.

“Bro, no,” Ash says, changing the song as soon as one of the boyband’s that Dylan and my sister like come up on the playlist. “Gross,” he says.

Dylan holds his breath as Ryan speaks up. “Monnie put that on. It’s _our song_.” He winces. I snort. Dylan’s breath leaks out and he snickers.

As we pull in to a large lot, I can already feel the dirt and grime that Scorpius and his family would never attend. People are walking around with cut offs and mud up the length of their legs. Trainers are stained brown and shirts have splatters on them. Both men and women have decorative bandana’s tied to their hair. Some have certain band shirts on.

“This is our spot,” Ryan announces, dumping his camping supplies on the ground. “Ash, you did that whole wilderness thing, can you make a tent?”

I stand next to Dylan and watch. Being a wizard, I’ve never had to do it the muggle way. However, I’ve never needed to. Even when we went to quidditch matches like the world cup, Dad had received special tents and special reserve boxes. Aunt Hermione only gets her family fancy hotel rooms given to her by the ministry, or Mum can get us nice accommodations as per her job. No one wants to put the savior of the wizarding world in a tent on muddy camp grounds. I can rest assure that Scorpius has never done this either.

I watch as my friend pitches the tent, using every ounce of his wilderness skills. Dylan and I stand by and watch, Ryan pulling out a lounge chair and sitting down. He’s sipping on a can of muggle fizzy drink. “Yeah, right there,” he says, pointing. He grins at us. “Boys, put the flag on top,” he instructs, pointing to myself and Dylan. Dylan rolls his eyes, but follows through with the task.

We can’t wait as we dump our stuff in to the tent, leaving our valuables in the truck. We all have the festival wrist bands tied on our wrists. Eyes are wide as we trek down the paths to the main area where the stages are. We can hear the thump of the drums and wails of guitar. The band performing plays all their hits, their singles, and the crowd goes crazy. When the lead singer cries out that there’s a mosh pit in the middle, my heart warms with the idea. I feel myself being pushed in, and then my heart starts racing. Dylan towers over the rest of the crowd, tugging me out. He shakes his head to the lads, hugging to my shoulders tightly.

“Don’t put Albie in,” Dylan warns to Ryan and Ashton. There is no jokes or laughter in regards. Their looks are equally as serious as our tallest member.

“Got it,” Ryan says, nodding in affirmation.

“Yep,” Ashton replies with a nod.

I rub at my head, scruffing around my hair with the blond streak in it. I blush slightly. “Thanks,” I mumble to my friends.

They nod. “Al, you don’t need to show off,” Ashton says as Ryan nods.

“Yeah, you’re cool enough. No pit needed.”

A scowl etches on my face, but they just shake their heads with a smile. They knock my shoulders instead, ushering me to a section near the corner barricade. I look up, and while the concert _is_ overwhelming, I’m entranced in all of it. I love the rush of the singer and the guitarist. I love the way they perform. This is even better than that time I got to see The Weird Sisters play with Mum. This is pure punk chaos, and my heart swells with adoration at every bit.

During a slow portion of the show I steal a glance at my friends. They’re staring up at the band performing, eyes filled with the same adoration mine have. Words are mouthed to songs they know, arms waving and songs screamed.

When the crowd disperses, arms are slung over my shoulder. “Mate, that was wicked.” I laugh, nodding in agreeance as I wipe the sweat off my face. My fringe is starting to flop near my eyes. I along with my friend’s trudge along back to our camp. Their voices are only as slightly raw as mine is.

There’s a laugh as we sit at the campsite. We’re smushed together in front of a burning fire, our little banner is blowing in the breeze. I had left my guitar at home, but one of our neighbors at a nearby campsite loans me theirs. As I strum, the guys and I sing.

“You guys a band?” One of our neighbors asks.

“Yeah,” I respond. Ryan flips back his head.

“Raging Fire,” he announces. “From Devon.”

“Devon?” We all nod.

My heart pounds as our neighbor nods along. “Alright,” he says finally. He turns back to his own group of friends. We laugh as he leaves, stopping our little performance.

“That was tits,” Ryan adds. “Fucking ace.”

“Yeah,” Ashton agrees. Dylan goes to crawl in to the tent, myself tagging along. We squeeze in to the tent, myself curling up closer to Dylan. The boys smush in close to me.

“That was really cool guys,” I say to my friends. They look at me a little confused. “Standing up for me and pulling me out and stuff.”

“Course.” I’m more surprised it was Ryan who said that than Dylan. Dylan and I have always been very buddy-buddy, him being my best friend before I met Scorpius. There’s no hard feelings as they all know Scorpius’ rank to me now. “You’re our Albie.” I blink, startled by his answer.

“You’re our friend,” Ash adds. “Fuck Mate, if we never made it clear, we like ya. Even when you were a quirky arse back in the day. You’re our friend. Our mate. You’re our band member.”

My eyes well up a little bit. I give a weak smile as Dylan quickly wipes my eyes for me. “Scorpius mentioned you two weren’t very popular. Do you get teased?” He asks, worried.

I’m laying down so my shrug is hardly noticeable. “Some,” I say. “Not as much.”

“Well fuck.” Ryan waves his hand. He moves closer to myself and Dylan. “Next time tell them you’re a part of a kickass rock band. And if _anyone_ tries to give you hell, well,” he chuckles. He reaches to ruffle my hair. “Now everyone shut the fuck up. We _need_ to be barricade for the gig at noon.”

Our favourite band and my favourite muggle band was the whole reason we were coming here for the show. We all knew that we _had_ to be barricade for the performance, and that we _had_ to be as close as possible. None of us had ever seen them live, and doing so was a big deal for us.

My friends scooch closer to me, and I close my eyes. As far as I’m concerned, this is the best summer of my life. I couldn’t care less if I ever went back to school.


	15. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus decides that sixth year will be his year. New faces start to appear, and Scorpius starts to realize much more about Albus than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving all the comments and replies and love you've been giving me. I love you guys so much <3
> 
> Warning: there is some mentions of sex, although it's pretty vague. But if that's something that bothers you, then skip a head.

Stepping on the platform that year, I knew I couldn’t have this year like last year. I knew I couldn’t have any freak outs, and I _knew_ I had to live. Spending all last term in my dorm was the _worst_ and I came to a decision that I didn’t want to live that way. I wanted to go out, I wanted to do things. I wanted a boyfriend, I realized, as I watched other couples interact during the festival. I knew chances were slim for me to actually have one, but a boy can dream, right?

I took my seat in our normal compartment. Scorpius and I always took the seats near the back of the train so it would be harder for the bullies to find us. It was a lot of effort to come all the way back here, and we hoped most took that as a reason to not come back here.

Scorpius grins at me as I sit down. I have my sketchbook out, my messenger bag sitting on the floor. “Lip ring, blond streak?” He raises a brow at me. “Who _are_ you?” He teases. He’s currently got one of the new books for care of magical creatures in his lap.

“Your best friend,” I say, grinning back. “Who just had the _best_ summer of his life.” Scorpius smiles at my response.

“Really? _The_ best?”

“Well, so far. Scor, we went to a music festival and camped out and got _barricade_ for our show!” My enthusiasm is similar to the rambles that Scorpius does when he is excited about something he’s read or recently learned.

“Sounds exciting. What’d your mum and dad say about your hair?”

“Freaked,” I reply. I laugh a little bit. “Mum just shook her head and Dad took an aspirin, muttering something about _those boys_. He meant the band,” I explain. “But Scor!” I lean forward with my sketchbook in my lap. There’s a half finished drawing of a dragon I had been working on. “I’ve decided _this_ will be my year. I don’t want to be stuck in my dorm anymore. I want to do things,” I tell him eagerly. “Join some clubs, go to Hogsmade, get a boyfriend. Those things.”

“Don’t go too fast, Al.”

“Who’s going too fast?” A head pops in to our compartment. I recognize the messy blond hair as one of the Scamander twins. The hair of the dark blond is currently pulled back in a sloppy bun. “Hey Al, Scorp.”

Scorpius grins at the other. “Lorcan.” A boy with shorter blond hair carefully tossed to the side enters behind him. His hair looks like it was cut with fashion in mind. “Lysander,” Scorpius adds with a nod.

“Lolly,” I say, his childhood nickname spilling from my lips.

“Al,” Scorpius says. “Albie’s got some blond and a lip ring and a band,” he says.

“A band, yeah? Sounds killer.” Lysander follows his brother, sitting on the other side of Scorpius. He makes a noise which causes Lorcan to scoff. “Sounds you,” he adds on with his compliment. “Ignore Lys,” Lorcan says, rolling his eyes. “Apparently regular music is so _passé_. Lysander’s in to _Romanian Dragon Cries_.” The annoyance of his twin is evident in the eye roll.

Lysander grabs at the snack his twin was holding. He takes a bite, dramatically swallowing. “Romanian Dragons have the sincerest cries. Why would anyone want to listen to cymbals and tambourines and fake wails when one could hear _nature_.” Another eye roll escapes from his twin. “Al, Allie-Cat,” Lysander says to me. I wince at that nickname. “You’d best be careful with those fake wails and cymbals. Nature might be upset. If you ask me—“

“—Which he didn’t,” Lorcan quickly interjects. “No one did.” Lysander frowns, huffing and leaving the compartment. Scorpius raises a brow. “Sorry, Lys has been a bit more _pretentious_ lately. I’m all for no meat and not hurting creatures or beasts, but this whole—“Lorcan waves his arms around. “Thing is getting a bit ridiculous. There’s a difference between being an annoying twat and a concerned environmentalist. Merlin’s beard,” he says, heaving a sigh. He then glances down at my dragon that’s half sketched. “Wicked. Was that from your Uncle Charlie’s reserve?” I nod my head as Lorcan stretched himself out on the floor of our compartment. “Don’t listen to Lys. He’s just being a pretentious twat. If your healer is telling you to do these things, do them. Don’t worry about arseholes who want you to not eat meat or whatever. Right, Scorp?”

Scorpius nods. He glances out the window, then at me and Lorcan. “Castle’s almost near. I’ve got to do some prefect meets. I’ll be back in a few.”

Lorcan nods. “You’re not prefect?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not interested in the role. I’d rather spend my time doing _other_ things.”

“Like what?”

Lorcan shrugs, stretching out his legs. “Clubs, Hogsmeade, those sorts. I’m not really _in_ to responsibility roles. I’d rather head a club than a house.” Lorcan lays on the floor of the compartment. “How was your summer? I didn’t see you at James’ graduation party. It was your birthday celebration, too.”

“I got sick,” I confessed. “Mum told me I should go home and lay down. Overwhelmed and the sorts.”

“Right, gotcha.” He nods. “Are you feeling better? Scorpius mentioned in letters you were.” He hums to himself, then switches the position he was sitting in. He goes from laying down to sitting cross legged. He peers up over the window and nods, seeing the castle come closer. “Right, we should probably get ready. Scor will be back, right?”

I nod my head, going to get my robes out my trunk and start putting them on. Lorcan follows suit, us being rejoined by Scorpius moments later. He has his robes back on, giving me a smile as I fix up my tie.

I didn’t realize how much I had actually missed the food from the feast. Last term, I wasn’t allowed to eat in the Great Hall at all, with my food being brought up to me by Scorpius. I usually ate whatever small amount of leftovers there were, and it wasn’t as normally fresh as the food from the feast was. The thought of sitting at the Slytherin table with my best friend was one I didn’t expect I’d miss. It was great, finally sitting next to Scorpius and engaging in conversation.

“What did you do when I wasn’t here?” I asked Scorpius.

He shrugged. “Read, mostly. Did some work.”

“Did you talk to anyone?”

“Sometimes.” Scorpius scans over the crowd, noticing that the feast isn’t too far from being over. He frowns at my half eaten plate, but doesn’t say anything to me about it. Another boy, one I slightly recognized from previous classes in our year glances over at my half eaten food.

“Are you going to eat that Albus?” He asks. I look down and shake my head. “Can I have it?” He asks, already taking it from me. “Carbs are good for quidditch,” he says. He looks at my face. “Wicked piercing,” he adds.

“Thanks,” I mumble out, getting a little uncomfortable. Scorpius winces, noticing my look and my discomfort.

“Cody,” he says. “Can you take Al to our dorms? Please?”

“Righty-O then, Mister Prefect.” Scorpius scowls playfully.

“It’s just Scorpius, Mister Finch.”

The boy, Cody, scowls back. “it’s just Cody, Mister Malfoy.”

“Just Cody, please take Albus to the room.”

I laugh a little bit. “is Scorpius always like that with you?” I ask Cody, following him back to the dorms. We give the password, _salazar_ and head in. Already in the dorms I can hear some chanting and some noises being made. The seventh years had all headed back early, starting a party. Some of the other younger years are in attendance, and my heart and eyes stop when I see a fifth year.

He’s tall. He’s not dressed in robes. Instead, he has on a leather jacket and tight skinny jeans. His eyes are a light colour, much like Scorpius’. His hair is dark, inky black with streaks of purple in it. He’s leaning against the walls of the common room, eyes boring into those around him. He has no one surrounding him. My heart flips.

“Who is that?” I ask, as Cody shrugs.

“Jake or something. I don’t know. He’s a fifth year. So Scorpius wants me to take you back to our room…” He starts, but then sees my eyes. “Or, just leave you here…” He adds with a mumble. I watch as Jake or something brings a cigarette to his pale lips, and my heart flips again.

I can’t help myself and walk over there, awkward smile on my face. “Hi,” I say, breathing in. I hold my breath for his response.

“Hey,” he responds, holding his hand up for a wave. He taps on the end of the cigarette, using his wand to vanish it. “Albie, right?”

My heart soars. He knows my name! I can’t help but feel like I’m soaring on one of Mum’s broomsticks when he says my name. “Uh-huh.” My smile isn’t forced. I can feel my cheeks heat up as he grins at me.

“Nice lip ring.”

“Thanks.” I nervously reach up to scratch at the back of my hair.

“Cool. Want a drink? This place fucking blows.”

“Sure.” I glance over my shoulder at Cody who doesn’t seem to notice me missing. I instead follow Jake out the dormitory and to the Astronomy tower. No one is around us as we go out up and out.

“I love the stars,” he says, glancing up at the sky. “So vast and void. Honestly, this place is fucking bullshit. Not everyone wants to be a slave to the ministry,” he says.

“I don’t,” I say and he nods in acceptance.

“Good. Creative souls belong out there, in the stars. You’re not like the others, are you?” He asks. He reaches back in to his pocket and pulls out another cigarette. He hands it over to me. “Quidditch jocks with their stupid quaffles and only care about scores and nailing birds. Or like those stupid prefects who are slaves to the ministry.”

I press my lips thin. It’s always been known around the Slytherin house that Scorpius Malfoy is my best friend and partner in crime. He glances at me, waiting for me to use my wand to light the cigarette. I hesitantly apply, lighting the stick up and inhaling the smoke to my lungs. I let out a brief cough. He smiles at me, and the smile is worth it. “I like your shirt,” I decide to say. Under the leather jacket is a band shirt for a small named wizarding band. It says _Screeching Owls_ on it.

“Weird Sisters are _so_ passé,” he replies. “They’re not the only wizarding rock band. Screeching Owls use only the best integrated owl recordings in their music.” He raises a brow at me, expecting me to agree with him. I nod, even though I love The Weird Sisters. I’ve always loved Myron Wagtail, ever since Mum played one of his records on the player when I was a kid.

“Right Albie,” he says nodding over at me. “You’re cool.” He stabs his cigarette out on the ground. He keeps his lips pressed in a firm line. Reaching out, he grabs the back of my neck. “You’re hot,” he whispers in my ear. He moves his lips on to my lips, and I can taste every bit of smoke he has put in to his lungs.

It was the hottest kiss I have ever felt. I can feel my insides melt away and my heart soar. Everything about this kiss I want again. He’s like the boys I’ve seen on the posters of my band’s wall. He’s the misunderstood bad boy in every muggle film I’ve ever seen. He was _hot_ , and I was smitten.

He removes his lips from mine and wipes the back of his hand over his lips. “See you again?” He asks me. We stand on the ledge of the tower, breeze ruffling in my hair. His own black and purple locks are ruffled. “Like tomorrow after class. You’re year six,” he states.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“See you tomorrow,” he adds with a wink at me.

My heart soars all the way back to the dorm room. I feel like I’m floating as I nestle back in to my bed. Scorpius notices, looking over at me.

“You seem chipper,” he observes. “Have a good feast day?”

“Great,” I say back.

“Are you ready for classes tomorrow? Our first year doing NEWT level!” He’s already put his book on the side of his table. I smile in to my pillow.

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“Albie?” Scorpius asks, but my head has already hit the pillow and my eyes closed. I didn’t get to hear the rest of whatever Scorpius was about to say. Instead, I wake up to him not being there, which isn’t completely unusual. But with our timetables this year, if we don’t have breakfast together, then we’re not going to see each other until later that afternoon when our classes realign again.

I had just finished my NEWT level muggle studies course when I’m walking out from my classes and feel a tap on my shoulder. I expect Scorpius, but the black and purple take my breath away instead. “Got time?” He asks, and I look behind me and shrug.

“I guess. Until two,” I reply. “Then I have transfiguration.”

“Excellent,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading me to a tree by the lake. He presses a kiss to my lips and then repeats the motion of wiping his hand across his lips. “Tastes like pumpkin juice,” he replies. “That’s kind of gross.” I frown, but don’t say anything back. He shrugs, but the presses his lips to mine again. I feel my heart race and pulse soar. We spent the allotted time between classes just sitting there under a tree. Occasionally we start kissing again, until he breaks away. “Ugh,” he announces. “Fuck charms.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you.” He presses one last kiss to my lips as he leaves.

“Albie!” I hear a voice call out. I look further out to see who it was. My heart sinks when I notice that it wasn’t Scorpius. It was Lorcan. He sees me and comes straight in my direction. “Al,” he repeats. He takes a seat on the grass. “I didn’t expect to see you out here,” he says, going to press his back against the tree. How he does it isn’t as angelic as how Jake does, I notice, but nowhere near as delicate as the way Scorpius adjusts his posture.

“Hey,” I say.

“Scorpius hasn’t seen you at lunch. He thought maybe you got overwhelmed or something and had to leave, so he went back to your dorm and you weren’t there. How are you?” He asks. He goes to pick at some grass on the ground. “First day alright?”

“Fantastic,” I tell him. I glance over at the lake. “But I have to get going to class now,” I tell Lorcan. He frowns at me.

“Okay,” he replies a little wary. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect,” I respond, grabbing my bag and nudging him on the way out. Something about Scorpius keeping tabs on me doesn’t feel as enduring as it did last term. I know last term it was because I was sick, but this time I’m not. I know all of the possible precautions to look out for. My therapist has informed me of all the possibilities. But making a new friend, potentially boyfriend, I hope, doesn’t seem like a horrible new path.

“Al, where were you at lunch?” Scorpius asks as I take my seat next to him in our shared class of the day.

“Out,” I reply sharply. Scorpius raises a brow. I know he can be protective, but he doesn’t seem like this when he was around my muggle friends.

“Oh, Cody told me you went to see that fifth year kid after the party the other night.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I was just wondering,” Scorpius defends himself quickly.

“I’m fine, Scorpius,” I tell my best friend. My voice sounds a little edgy and he in turn, winces then shoots me a worried look.

“You’ll tell me if you’re feeling bad again, will you?”

“Sure,” I reply back quickly. I then shut up as soon as the professor walks in.

Throughout the class I doodle on my parchment while I’m supposed to be taking notes. This isn’t something new, as I always doodle on my pages. But this time, I notice Scorpius glance over at some of my doodles. I look down, noticing that I had doodled Jake’s name in a heart, and little stick figures of us holding hands.

When class ends, Scorpius glances back at me. He has a tiny grin on his face. “You have a crush,” he tells me. “That’s why you’re acting like this.”

“I do not,” I reply back, my cheeks reddening. My best friend, however, can always notice when I’m lying or not. He spent all of last year deciphering my lies.

“You do. You have a crush on that fifth year. Admit it, Al,” he says, smiling at me. His eyes seem to be hiding something, but I don’t ask him what. I don’t feel it’s my place.

“Okay, okay,” I tell Scorpius. I hold my hands up in defense. “Okay, I have a crush on the fifth year. His name is Jake.”

“Does he like you back?” Scorpius asks me. He helps me pick up my books and hands them to me as I put them in my bag.

“He kissed me.”

“Really?” Scorpius’ eyes were wide. “How was it? Was it your first kiss?”

I shake my head. “Dylan was my first.”

He smiles. “In primary?”

“We were nine. He told me he didn’t want to kiss girls. I told him I’m not a girl, so he could kiss me.”

Scorpius chuckles. “That’s cute.”

“What about yours?”

Scorpius wrinkles his nose. “Someone at one of the ministry events. An old colleague of Dad’s. I don’t know if I’d count it as a real kiss. I suppose it was.”

“Was it good?” I ask.

Scorpius laughs. “I don’t know. It was a kiss. We were young. Sometimes you just do those things because you think you’re supposed too. My parents kissed a lot. I probably was mimicking them.” His laughter feels forced, awkward even. He just nods at me. “I... I have a lot of homework. I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He forces a smile at me. I scrunch my brows confused, but that confusion goes away when I feel a pair of lips on my neck.

I squirm, a harsh squeak leaving my lips. I turn around, seeing the boy with the purple and black hair. His eyes seemed gazed over, but he’s smiling. Scorpius is already gone when I feel cold hands lace with mine. They’re rough, unlike the softness of Scorpius’.

He tugs my arms to an abandoned classroom and presses me against the wall. Our lips collide and my heart soars. “Missed you,” he says, eyes hazy and words slurred. I don’t care, smiling in to the kiss as I kiss him back. “We should skip tomorrow,” he tells me. “Have some fags and take art. Should be warm.”

I knew I had classes tomorrow. I knew I shouldn’t skip. I had plans to do my NEWTs for healing, but after last summer all I really wanted to do was make music with my band. I wanted to do more creativity, more art related stuff. I didn’t want to be in the mundane pattern of last year.

“Okay,” I agree.

“Good,” he says to me. He pulls part from our kiss. “You’d look even hotter with eyeliner,” he decides. “Try it.” He pulls a small black stick from his pocket, handing it to mine. We lace hands again, walking back to the dormitory. We missed dinner, but I couldn’t care less.

Our nights followed similar patterns. Sometimes I did go to class, sometimes I skipped. On the weekends, we’d spend all day outside by the lake. I’d be sitting there with my back pressed against a tree, a cigarette dangling from my lips. Jake sat nearby, camera strapped around his neck as he took photographs. I had told him about my muggle camera, and he seemed fascinated. Something about still time and paused moments seemed to resonate with him.

We were sitting by the lake when I noticed my cousin come over to me. She had her bushy hair pulled back off her face. She scrunched her brows, going to place her hands on her hips as she stood over me. “Hi Albus,” she says to me. She keeps her hand propped on her hip.

“Hi Rose,” I reply back. Jake looks over at me, then goes back to looking at his camera.

“What’re you doing?” She asks. She has that look on her face like when she used to want to get me in trouble. It’s like when we were younger and she had some desire to outsmart me in some stupid way that only mattered to her.

“Hanging out with my boyfriend,” I tell her. I shoot her a glare, hoping she’d take that as a sign to go away. She doesn’t.

“ _He’s_ your boyfriend?” She drops her hand from her hip. “Al,” she says. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me. “You’re _such_ a bloody idiot,” she reaffirms me. “Where’s Scorpius?”

“Doing homework or something,” I reply. My stomach churns at the thought of him being alone. But then, he hasn’t ever said anything to me about this. Besides, this is good for me. “What do you want?”

“Are you wearing _makeup_?” She snorts, eyes glancing over at my dark lined eyes. I touch at the corner of my eye.

“It’s called _eyeliner_. Maybe you’d benefit from some.”

Jake in turn snorts. “Good one, Ally.”

“ _Ally_?” Rose questions out loud. She knows how much I hate being called Ally. She snorts, shaking her head. “Can I speak to my cousin a moment?” She asks my boyfriend, but grabs my wrist anyway. I find myself tugged away from the tree that I’ve been hanging around. I’m suddenly too far from sight of my boyfriend and I don’t like that. I don’t like being away from him, or alone with Rose. “Albus, what’s going on?” She asks me.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, as Rose peers down at my fingernails. It was a new thing Jake had decided to implement. A few days ago he and I were sitting in a classroom together after making out. He had told me that this was a way we could be together even when we’re apart. It was a way where we didn’t have to miss each other too much. I had decided I liked the idea. When I had showed Scorpius my newly painted nails he just smiled at me.

“Can you stop being a bloody idiot and realize for just a second that people are worried about you?”

“Since when have you _ever_ been worried about me?”

“You’re just,” Rose sputters. “After last year—“

I shoot my cousin a look. “Look Rose, after last year is _exactly_ why I need this. Please stop. Just stop,” I tell her. “I have a boyfriend. These things happen.”

“Albus,” Rose goes to grab my wrist as I turn away. “He’s not a good guy. I know Scorpius isn’t my cup of tea, but he’s—“

“None of your business,” I finish for her. “My best friend doesn’t need someone who treats him like dirt.”

“Then maybe you should reevaluate yourself,” she bites back. “I know you’ve got low self-esteem and social problems but—“I shoot my cousin down, ripping my grip from her wrist. I drop my cigarette I’ve had in my mouth and Rose gapes at me.

“Fuck off,” I tell my cousin. “Or I’ll fucking hex you,” I threaten.

Rose glares at me, huffing and turning around, stomping off.

I go back to the tree where my boyfriend is sitting. He’s taking a picture of the lake and my heart swoons at his artistic ability. He comes over towards me from his spot and laughs. “What did the grouchy skirt want?” He asks.

The wording of my cousin is a term I hadn’t heard before. No one in my family called girls skirts. My therapist may have been old fashioned, but even he used proper language about females. But I didn’t argue with Jake. He was my boyfriend, after all. He was usually right about things. Rose was a bit grouchy.

“Makeup tips,” I joke. I refrain from telling him that he was the topic of conversation. “Wanted to know how to look good,” I tease back.

Jake laughs. “Ally, baby, c’mere,” he says, glancing at me a second. He grabs at my wrist and presses a kiss to my mouth which lures me in. My heart swoons at his touch. He pulls me closer and mutters a spell, aiming his wand at my hair. In an instant, I feel my messy hair start to straighten out. The piece that’s blond is suddenly straighter than it ever was. Jake stands back, proud of himself as he pushes my hair to the side. “You look better now,” he says, pressing kiss to my nose. “I didn’t want to be kissing Harry Potter,” he jokes, and my heart sinks.

“Right,” I reply. I self-consciously tug at the straighten strand. I always knew I looked like my dad. The whole world knew that. I just didn’t realize we looked that similar, even now. “Thanks,” I tell my boyfriend.

“Of course, Ally.”

I find myself slump on my bed when I return back from my day out with Jake. Scorpius is studying and he notices as soon as I walk in. He puts down his book and stares at me. “How was your date?”

I smile weakly. “Good,” I tell him. “It went nice.”

“Are you sure?” Scorpius asks me. I nod my head up and down. My date went fine. Things went fine. After all, Jake was my boyfriend and I’m pretty sure I loved him. After all, how many people were going to be willing to put up with me? This was my one shot at a boyfriend, and I couldn’t screw it up.

I decide to take Jake’s advice and skip my afternoon class. It was warm again, and he liked spending time with me. I liked being alone with him, too, even if sometimes he said things. But then, everything he said was true, so it wasn’t like he was lying to me.

We’re sitting by the lake once again. The warmth of the weather is all that’s enough. He’s decided to sit against me and press kisses up and down my neck. I blush feverishly as he kisses me. He makes my heart fill up in ways no other boy has before.

A smile escapes my lips as I notice my best friend wander over to us. “Hey Al,” he greets. He notices the smoking stick and winces. He doesn’t like the smell. “Missed you in class,” he says.

“Jake said it was a nice day to skip, so we did.”

“Uh huh,” Scorpius says with a nod. “I copied notes for you to borrow,” he offers. “And I ran into Rose. She’s worried about you.” That’s a blatant lie. I know it is, because Rose isn’t ever worried about me. She’s worried about her own reputation. She hardly came to talk to me when I was sick. The only time she ever did was when she was being forced to.

“No she’s not. She called me a bloody idiot.” I pull the stick from my lips, ignoring Scorpius’ look. I blow a puff away from his face. I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Scorpius just coughs. “Said I have horrid taste in people.”

“Not _all_ people,” Scorpius corrects. “She’s just upset about your muggle friend and the birthday parties.”

I crack a smile. “She told you that, did she? I didn’t really want to invite her but I had too. Same with her. We were getting to that age where we drifted and girls were supposed to be icky. Even if Rose wasn’t a girl in my eyes.”

Jake looks over at the two of us. He glances at Scorpius, then goes to press a kiss to my lips. His own mouth tastes like smoke. “So glad I told you to straighten your hair,” he says. “You look way hot, Albie. We should do a midnight swim later. It’ll be aces. You’re so fucking hot, Ally.” He presses a kiss to me again, tiny smirk given in Scorpius’ direction. He grabs at my wrist. “See you later, Ally.” He grabs my neck, pressing a kiss hard against my lips. I kiss back, and he in turn wipes at his mouth like normal.

“Is he always like that?” Scorpius questions.

I shrug, dropping my stick to the ground. “Like what? He just tells me things. Things that are true, really.”

Scorpius frowns. “What kind of things?”

“Oh you know,” I reply with a wave of my hand. “Everyone knows these things. That stupid speech thing, my annoying ways. He’s helping me to become a more interesting person.”

Scorpius picks at a piece of grass as he takes a seat down on it. His eyes scan the various blades, picking and pulling at some. “Do you love him, Albie?”

“Yeah,” I reply back. “I think he’s the one, Scorp. And I can’t be picky you know,” I add on, hoping he understands. Scorpius looks at me sadly, a worried look in his eyes. It’s that same look he used to give me when he visited me in the hospital. I shake my head. “Yeah,” I add on.

My eyes gaze over at my best friend. I hate the look that he’s doing. It’s the same look he gives me when I was sick. Scorpius just shakes his head sadly at me, leaving me to just sigh. I don’t really get how me dating someone is so horrible. Jake may have _some_ problems, but everyone has issues, right? After all, he’s willing to date me, so that must say something about him.

One morning before I’m about to go out with Jake, I notice that I can’t find my tiny tube of black eyeliner. My heart starts racing. Jake has explicitly told me how eyeliner makes my eyes pop, and how good my eyes look with it. I know he’s not a fan of me looking like my dad, and honestly, I don’t blame him. “Have you seen my eyeliner?” I ask Scorpius. My heart starts fluttering with my nerves.

Scorpius shakes his head, noticing how I’m reacting. He notices my charmed straight hair and shakes his head, tsking. “Just go without it,” he tells me. “You look fine, Al.”

“Jake doesn’t like me without it,” I confess. Scorpius has the same look in his eyes that he did when I was ill. He lets out a huge sigh, noticing that the tube had rolled under my ferret’s cage.

“Draco had it, Al. Here.” Scorpius hands me the tube as I hastily apply my eyeliner. I’m already running late for a date. Jake and I had decided to do a date day at Hogsmeade. It was our first real proper date. He and I wanted to go do all the usual dating things that couples do. I give my thanks to Scorpius and give him a small wave, shoving on my black converse and heading out the door.

“You’re late,” Jake says, raising an eyebrow as I quickly lace my hands in his. He in turns swings our laced hands. “I thought I’d have to leave without you,” he tells me. He bends down to kiss my temple, giving a rude look at the onlookers. Scorpius was meeting Lorcan and Lysander while I was on my date.

I clutch to his hands as we walk through Hogsmeade. Aside from my one visit last spring, I hadn’t set foot in a long while. I hadn’t noticed how crowded it could get, and I feel my heart race. Jake gives me a look, but it’s not one of concern like Scorpius or Lorcan would give me. It’s one of annoyance, one that I have seen people give me when they hardly know me.

“Can you not do that?” He asks me. I notice that my grip is rougher and tighter than normal. My heart thumps as I feel the crowds. I blink rapidly, and Jake heaves a sigh out. “Albie,” he says. It’s not comforting the way he says my name. “It’s just people. It’s fine,” he tells me. The action isn’t reassuring, but I nod, taking a breath and swallowing hard. This isn’t at all comforting and I feel myself grow even more nervous. Jake heaves out a bigger sigh. “Let’s get some food. Maybe you’re hungry, yeah?”

We walk in to The Three Broomsticks, going to sit down in a booth. We settle down across from each other and he starts to relax more. He looks more comforting now than he did in the crowd. My heart flips in my chest as he rubs his foot against mine. I take a glance at the menu, going to order some chips and a simple sandwich. I add on some butterbeer as Jake does as well. We’re halfway finished through our meal when he notices the loo that’s vacant. My heart flips once again as I nibble on my sandwich and chips.

“We should fuck,” Jake decides. “Stick it to this shitty place.”

I swallow hard. Sex isn’t something I’d ever really thought about. I knew people did it. I knew about it. I just didn’t ever think I’d ever get that far. Having my social disorder lead me to believe that falling in love would be a rarity for me. I didn’t think I’d ever get this far. “Okay,” I decide. I sip on my butterbeer once again and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Now,” he decides. He grabs at my wrist, his own painted black nails resting with mine. My heart thumps in my chest as I grab my wand that was sitting beside me. I don’t know why I’ll need it, but I decide I probably do. “Have you ever fucked before?”

I shake my head. “No,” I whisper to him. My palms start to sweat.

“Right. Well, first things first. Wrap up. Lubricating spells are a godsend.” He gives me a hint of a smile. It’s not romantic as I feel myself pressed against the wall. It’s not like the films say it is, and it’s not at all something I’d ever want to picture Scorpius doing with someone. It’s a little painful, too.

Jake doesn’t care to be careful, going at whatever speed he wants to. My heart thumps and I wince. It’s quicker than I thought, and I feel sweat going down my face. I wipe at my forehead, my hair starting to curl up some from the sweat. We leave the loo together hand in hand, a bright light flashing in our faces.

We were caught.


	16. Sink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus faces some harsh realities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for kind reviews and messages. It really really means a lot. xx

Breakfast the next morning was the biggest dread I had since being forced back to therapy after my incident last year. Kids were pointing at me, snickering. News had traveled fast in the wizarding community. News especially travelled fast when you were the son of the chosen one.

I keep my eyes low as I munch on my breakfast. Jake is nowhere to be seen. Scorpius sits beside me, but he doesn’t say anything. Rose comes over to my table, along with some of my other cousins. “Wow,” Hugo says, mouth gaped open at me. Rose grabs her little brother’s shoulders.

“Stay away, Huey,” she says, glaring at me. “You’re such a bloody idiot,” she repeats to me. “And you’re in big trouble.” She looks up at the red piece of parchment that is fluttering down from an owl. Scorpius gulps, eyes going wide.

“Those are howlers,” he tells me.

“I know,” I bite back. Scorpius shrinks down in his seat. He places his bookmark in his book.

“You might want to open them,” he warns me. “Or else they get worse.”

I wince as the parchment mouth rips open. The voice is loud and boisterous. I can see my little sister look on from where she was sitting. Her face is pale. “Albus Severus Potter,” the voice rings out. I can hear it as the tone of my mother. “How _dare_ you make a mockery! Of _all_ places, a _loo_? Your father and I are _very_ disappointed in you. And your Grandmother!” The note starts to sputter and rip to pieces. My face reddens as the rest of the hall watches. Another red piece of parchment drops down and I can hear the angry voice of my grandmother.

My heart sinks and my face reddens. I quickly pick up my things and catch a glimpse of the prophet as I walk past a table. Some stupid Gryffindors wave the paper, laughing along as the moving picture of me covers my face. The headline reads _Chosen One’s Son has a little too much fun._ The article goes on about my Hogsmeade outing. The information is almost word for word of our date and my heart flips and sinks.

I push away everyone laughing at me, going into a corridor that seems empty. My eyes are wetting as I feel a hand on my shoulder. The voice isn’t as soothing as I’d have hoped it was. Looking up, my eyes meet that of my boyfriend. His hair isn’t as ruffled and his robes were present, which he normally didn’t ever wear except for class.

“Albus,” he says to me. His eyes are hazy looking. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” My heart starts to crumble. I can feel the pain rise to my throat. My mouth gapes open, but I don’t speak. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he starts off, but then corrects himself. “Actually, it’s more you than me. I can’t do this. I can’t be in the spotlight for dating you. I can’t have my shags publicized like that. But it’s not just the shag. Honestly,” he says. “You’re kind of difficult. Clingy, needy, the sorts. You kind of freak out and shit and that’s just a lot for a person to handle. So yeah.” He drops my hand from his. “But you’re hot, sometimes, anyway.” He gives me a small wave before walking away.

My eyes start to well up with tears as I quickly brush them off my face. I wipe and run, going straight down to the dungeon where our dormitories are. I rush on to my bed, curling myself up on the blankets. I ignore all the footsteps that come in to the dormitory. I don’t want to see anyone, nor have anyone see me.

Cody Finch from my year walks in on my tears. He stops, noticing my sniffles. “He’s an arse,” the boy says. He gives me a sympathetic smile. “A real jerk face. Sorry he was so mean to you, Albus. You seem nice. Here,” he says, placing a chocolate frog on my bed. He then waves and heads to his own class.

More footsteps are heard as I feel pressure on my bed. The side opposite me is dipping in, and I can only guess it’s Scorpius. No one else ever gets that close to me. “I was stupid,” I whisper to Scorpius. I can tell it’s him by the way he adjusts himself on my bed. I sit up some, coming face to face with my best friend. He has tucked in his hands my beloved owl. Gingerly, he places the owl in my grips. I hug Hooty tight. “I fell in love with a _stupid_ boy,” I confess to my best friend. He pulls me close.

“We all do stupid things, Al. Remember _Bread Head?_ ” I sniffle, feeling myself be pressed against his chest. Scorpius rubs circles on my back.

“I _let_ him do those things to me. Then he said I _sucked_ and I got a howler from Gran, and Mum and Dad.”

Scorpius continues to rub circles on my back. “It’s okay. I’m here, and you’re here. And you’ve got _Malfoy the Supreme_ ,” he says with a slightly joking voice. He gently touches my fringe, pushing it away from my face and to the side. He notices my black chipped nails and frowns. “Do you want me to remove the rest for you?” He asks quietly.

I shake my head, running my hand over my nose. “I _liked_ it. I-I don’t want him to ruin it. It-it made me feel like the boys in the band.” Scorpius gently picks at the flecks that are flaking off. I know he gets what I mean about boys in the band, and punk rock, and music. It was something that means a lot to me, and even if it’s just nail varnish, it makes me feel something. I feel _good_ when I wear it. I feel like a proper rocker.

“Then do you want me to reapply it? I’ve done Mum’s before. When she got ill—“Scorpius starts, but doesn’t finish. Whenever he mentions his mum, it’s usually easy for me to cave in. Anything that makes him feel connected to his mum is something I feel bad taking away from him.

I nod at my best friend, gently putting my tear stained owl on the side of my bed. Scorpius waves his wand and the little bottle comes flying. He gently picks up my hand and the brushes, carefully painting my nails black. He makes sure none of the nails are chipped, blowing slightly to help dry them. He then carefully picks up the other hand, being as gentle and as careful as ever, repeating the motion. As soon as he finishes the motion, Scorpius then places a small kiss to my forehead.

My heart fills up just slightly. The emptiness of Jake feels forgotten as my I tilt my head up. My lips then collide with the lips of my best friend.

Our lips stay connected for just a bit longer until we break apart. My heart still feels empty. Scorpius’ face is blushed red and my own face is tear stained. The kiss with him fills me up in ways I didn’t even know it could. Something about the kiss felt right, but also wrong at the same time.

Scorpius’ face is still bright red as he forces an awkward smile to me. “Sorry,” I tell my best friend. Scorpius nods at me in reply. He awkwardly scoots away from me.

“It’s okay,” he tells me quietly. “Heat of the moment,” he whispers back. His voice seems soft, regretful, even. I nod my head. “Right,” Scorpius replies with a nod. He glances over at the clock he had placed on the side of the table. He nods once again. “I’ve got class,” he tells me.

My heart feels just as broken after I kissed Scorpius as it did when Jake broke up with me. I couldn’t bear to go to class, so I wander the halls. I find myself sitting on the steps leading to the great hall. I’m off to the side so no one can trip over me.

“ _Oooh_ , Shaggy Potter,” Polly Chapman teases me. She laughs haughtily at me, Yann Fredericks linked on to her. He laughs along.

“Guess not everyone gets an O in shagging,” he teases, nudging Polly in the side. She snickers, and my heart sinks even further.

“Go away,” a voice says. I expect it to be Scorpius, but looking up, I see it to be my cousin and my sister. Rose has her bushy hair pulled back like normal, while Lily has her hair tied in to two plaits. “Can you leave my brother alone?” She snips. “His heart is already hurting. Or would you like to hurt, too?” Rose snickers, taking a seat near me on the steps. Lily sits down too, once Polly and Yann leave.

“Mum and Dad aren’t that upset,” Lily explains to me. She looks down at my nails, reaching to grab my hand. Her hand is soft in mine. My little sister scoots closer to me. “They’re more confused than anything,” she explains.

“What’s there to be confused about?” I ask my sister. “I dated a boy, we broke up.”

“They’re worried about your low self-esteem,” Rose adds on. Lily shoots a look to our cousin, but Rose just nods her head, fighting back anything Lily had to say against what had happened. “They think that this is a side effect of last year.”

“I’m fine,” I tell my sister and cousin.

“No you’re not,” My cousin and sister say in unison.

“You’re hurting,” Lily exclaims. Rose nods her head.

“Yeah well…” I halfheartedly shrug. My cousin and sister look at me, Lily keeping her hand wrapped around mine. “I probably deserve it. I’ve been horrible.”

No,” Lily starts off. She’s interrupted by Rose.

“You’ve been an idiot,” Rose finishes. My sister shoots our cousin a look. “You rush in to a lot of things. You’re impulsive and easily influenced. Those stupid boys can get you to do anything.” I don’t know who she is referencing, but I have a hint it’s my band.

“They’re his friends,” Lily defends for me. “They’re really nice to him. They can be stupid but not half as stupid as James and his friends, or Freddie and James.”

Rose nods in agreeance. “I guess. But they’re still idiots. He’s still so bloody easy to manipulate,” she adds on. Lily hums, ignoring her words.

“I am _not_ ,” I protest. My sister shakes her head.

“Rosie, just stop. Leave Albus alone. He can’t help it.”

“Can you both just stop? I’m a bloody idiot, I get it. I’m fucking stupid. I fall in love too easily. I’m too stupid. I get it. You don’t need to tell me more about it. I think we’ve all learned how I’m an annoying freak.” My arms cross as my eyes water. I quickly swipe at my eyes.

Rose frowns. Lily’s concern deepens. “Al,” Lily says softly. “You’re not a freak. And yeah, you’re annoying, but you’re my brother that’s how it’s supposed to be. But if anyone else calls you annoying—“ Lily’s voice rises. Rose nods at my sister’s words.

“We can say those thing because we’re family.”

I scowl. ”We love you,” Lily adds on softly. I look at Rose who nods.

“I do,” she tells me.

“And if anyone is being unkind to you,” Lily starts, but I shake my head quickly.

“James told you to watch over me, didn’t he?” I ask. My hands detach from the grip of my sister. “Because of last year. Or did your parents tell you to be nice to your sick cousin?” I turn my head to my cousin who glares back.

“Can’t we care about you?!”

“Lily can,” I fire back. “You’ve never.”

My sister looks between us and sighs. “Rosie,” she starts. “Even when we were younger you haven’t always been very nice to him.”

“But he’s never!” She protests.

“Rosie,” Lily warns. My sister has a Weasley temper as well. She can be a bit of a fireball when she wants too. Like Mum, if she’s passionate about something she can fire back just as much. Rose was just as bit as irrational as my Uncle Ron, according to my mum. She too, had a Weasley temper. My sister’s look is one that can rival our mum which shuts up Rose.

“Okay, okay.” She holds her hands up like our brother does. “Fine. I’m going to go see—never mind,” she finishes.

Lily nods. “Have fun. Al, let me know if you need anything.”

“I’m supposed to be the big brother, not the other way around.”

“I know, and you are. But I also love you and want you around. You’re not stupid,” Lily tells me quietly. She scoots closer once Rose has left. She presses her shoulder in to mine and sits still. “You’re not stupid at all. You’re bright, and creative. You just see things differently. Besides,” she says. “One bad boy down just means that you’re closer to finding your true love.”

My heart churns. I feel empty. “If that’s ever to happen.”

“It will,” Lily confirms. “You’re not _that_ unloveable.”

“Thanks,” I tell my sister.

“Anytime.” She smiles at me, patting me on the shoulder as she stands up, going back to the Gryffindor tower. I in turn shove my hands in the pocket of my hoodie, wandering back down to the dungeon. Everything hurts as I walk down the steps back to my dormitory. My heart churns with each step, and I feel myself collapse on to my bed.

I dread anything about getting out of bed after the breakup.

Waking up the next morning, and the following, my heart feels heavy. I feel sickly and I just want to sleep. On the morning of October 27th, however, I force myself to be a little more cheerful. It was my best friend’s seventeenth birthday, and I wanted to appear more involved than I had been in the past. My relationship made me regret how much less time I spent with my best friend.

In the morning I set out a muffin with a bright pink candle on it, and placed the package on my best friend’s bedside table. It was abnormal for Scorpius to sleep longer than me. He was always of the type to rise early and get to bed at a reasonable timeframe. Being out late with my band forced every night owl bone in his body that he didn’t have.

I gently tapped the head of his toy elephant, Elma, then waved my wand and accio’d over my acoustic guitar I had decided to bring this year. During our first summer as a band, we had ventured in to writing songs as a group, however, before I had dabbled with writing my own songs.

I pluck out a soft tune, forcing all negative thoughts of Jake from my head. The words come out softly, causing Scorpius to blink his eyes rapidly before waking up. “Albie?” He asks, sitting up and ruffling at his rumpled hair. It wasn’t as neat and tidy as it normally was. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I tell him. “Happy Birthday.”

His eyes blink more rapidly as he wipes away at the sleep bunched in the corner. His smile starts to broaden. He’s seventeen, and he’s legal to do magic whenever. I have to wait until June. The energy of being a legal wizard makes him bounce up in excitement. “Oh goody, presents!” He exclaims. His childlike energy makes me force out a chuckle. It still hurts, but Scorpius makes it a little easier. “You look a little better.”

A small smile etches across my lips. “It’s okay,” I reply back.

“Can I open it, or do I need to wait?” His excitement is like a child on Christmas.

“You can open it.”

My permissions have him tear through the gift, dropping the wrapping to the floor. He pauses, going to read the card attached like the proper wizard he was raised as. His smile widens when he reads the card, going softer at some portions. “Oh Albie,” he says. He doesn’t care about my comfort for the moment, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. He then goes back to his excitement and continues to rip off the remainder of the wrapping. His eyes light up with glee. The gift this year is not my standard book like I’ve given him in the past. Instead, it’s a small yellow iphone that is similar to my green one.

“Is this one of your thingys?” He asks me.

“It doesn’t work here, but I thought you’d like one, too. Keep in touch with the muggle side of things.”

He smiles, opening the other portion of the gift. “What’re these mirrors? Al, I don’t _need_ more mirrors.” He chuckles. “I’m not _that_ vain.”

“Oh! They’re not looking at mirrors. They’re charmed. I got them from Dad. They’re for two-way conversation. I have one, you the other.” Scorpius smiles at that.

“And is that muggle candy?”

I nod. “Yep, all muggle. Happy Birthday, Scorp.”

He smiles back at me. “Thanks Albie.” I feel my heart flutter at his thanks, although with things that have happened with Jake I don’t feel as if I deserve his thanks. I give him a sheepish wave and Scorpius just forces a smile. He picks at the muffin I had paced on his bedside table, splitting it in half with me. He carefully watches as I nibble on my half of the muffin, leaving the rest for him to finish. With one last bite, he kisses my cheek again. “Thanks again, Albie. See you after class.”

I don’t feel like going to class. Scorpius and I don’t share any classes today. I know what I should go to, but I don’t. I instead go outside with a package of cigarettes and go sit by the lake. I remove my socks and shoes and dip my feet in. I wish for the giant squid to pull me in, even if doing so would probably make this Scorpius’ worst birthday. As I sit and dwell, I wonder just what I did to have such a great best friend. In his seventeen years of life, he’s been through the unthinkable, yet he’s always been so positive. I don’t get it, and chuck my dying fag out in to the water.

I shove my hands under my robe and walk barefoot back to my dorm, stumbling in to Professor Longbottom. My eyes meet his and I quickly fumble the cigarette pack back in to my pocket. Uncle Neville looks concerned and checks his watch.

“Albus, can we meet in my office?” I shake my head. “Al,” he says a little more sternly. “Let’s meet in my office. That’s not a choice. Come on,” he says, and I heave a sigh.

His office is still filled with photographs and various plants. There’s an old finger painting of a flower tucked under my nursery school graduation photo. Peeking out from the corner is my name, spelled with the backwards B and S, which is how I used to spell my name as a child.

I take a seat in the chair across from his desk, the door shutting behind us. He takes a seat, sighing. “Albus, are you okay?”

“Peachy,” I reply. His eyebrows raise.

“You don’t smoke,” he replies. “When did you start?”

“A while back.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“Smoking is prohibited on grounds for students. “

“So.”

“So, Albus,” he sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Albus, this isn’t the smoking thing I’m concerned about. It is, but,” he stops to rub at his face. “Are you upset?”

“No.”

“Albus,” he says again. “Breakups hurt. It’s okay to be upset. I saw your little tabloid incident.”

I go to pick at the flakes of black on my nails. I think I want Scorpius to paint them again. “So you know how lousy I am, then.”

Uncle Neville sighs. “You’re not lousy, Albus. You’re my godson and I love you.”

“I’m a shitty shag. That’s why I got dumped. I’m also annoying, stupid, and difficult to be around.”

Uncle Neville’s face reddens. His fluster from my loss of virginity turns to one of anger. “You are not, Albus. Albus Severus Potter,” he says to me. His tone becomes harsh and quiet. “You are a creative, wonderful boy. You will one day find a boy who appreciates you for who you are.” He stands up to kiss the top of my head. “I want you to go to class tomorrow,” he warns me. “I will check. I also want you to please stop with the smoking. You’re far too young to have such a habit. And lastly,” he adds on. “I want you to go to dinner. Eat a proper meal. I love you,” he says, waving his wand and confiscating my smokes. I scowl. I know Jake had gotten me in to the habit, but our breakup isn’t the reason for my smoking. I like it. I like the calmness it brings, and how easy it makes me feel. I feel better when I smoke. But I let him take it and make a plan to accio it back later on. Nodding to my godfather, I dread the walk to the Great Hall for dinner.

I plant myself next to Scorpius who beams at me. “Albus!” Uncle Neville grins at the two of us, going to head to the table with all the professors. “Albus,” Scorpius says again. He holds out his wrist. On it is a very fancy looking watch. The watch is silver to match the trademarked Malfoy blond. It has the initials SHM carved in to it. “My dad gave it to me for my birthday.” He beams at his gift. “It’s customary to give a wizard a watch on their seventeenth,” he adds on knowingly. “He also got me some chocolates, books I was interested in, and some jumpers to use when we go to Switzerland this winter holiday. We’re doing a ski trip.”

I smile, but it’s forced. “Nice.”

“What did Professor Longbottom want?”

“To talk.”

“Oh. He saw the prophet?”

“Who didn’t?” My heart slumps and Scorpius lets out a sigh.

“Cheer up. Maybe things will get better.”

“Doubt it.” He sighs again, going to turn his attention back to his food. He carefully makes sure to keep his new watch clean as he eats, eagerly showing it off to just about anyone at the table who asks to see him.

As the fall time starts to fade in to winter, I had hoped my heart would get better. So far, it hadn’t. Almost everything reminded me of Jake, and I really couldn’t believe that anybody would ever love me again. I didn’t think I was able to be loved, even when Scorpius and others reassured me that I could.

One day when the brisk fall air was almost as cold as winter, Scorpius had decided we were going to see one of the quidditch matches. He had told me he had wanted to see at least one game this year, and for some reason, I decided to go. I guess being contained all last year made me _miss_ the opportunity to watch a match.

Scorpius and I were bundled up in our Slytherin scarves and robes, a thermos of cocoa between Scorpius’ feet. It was freezing out, and Gryffindor was losing by twenty points. All that we had to do was catch the snitch, and we’d win our last match before the holidays. But the most peculiar thing happened during the match. The bludgers seemed more intense than normal, and even the quaffle had seemed off.

As one of the chasers on the Gryffindor team had flew closer to the goal, the quaffle seemed be accio’d away from them, despite there being no wand to do so. There were some murmurs about in the crowd and the captains called a quick time out. I hadn’t been to a quidditch match in years, and I hadn’t ever recalled something this odd happening during a game. It was as if the balls were bewitched to rebel against any motions the Gryffindors did.

As soon as the whistle blew, the Gryffindor and Slytherin captains walked out on the field. The Slytherin captain had a shameful look on his face as the referee called for a disqualification to the Slytherins. The groans from the crowd were loud, and some even threw things on to the pitch.

“Mister MacMillen has been removed from his position for tampering with the equipment,” Madam Hooch stated. “Try outs for Slytherin keeper will be held at a later date.” As students started to leave the stands, there were grumbles and groans from both sides. Some sneers were sent to Cory MacMillen as Scorpius and I left.

“I guess we could do a puzzle?” He asks me. “We haven’t done one in ages. We’ve never finished that Les Miserable themed puzzle your aunt found you last spring.”

“Sure,” I reply, trucking up back to the castle. From out the corner of my eye I see Jake, and I quickly duck my head and scowl. Scorpius looks at me and shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything. We don’t speak again until we’re back in our dorm, puzzle pieces placed on our beds.

“This is nice,” Scorpius says as he placed on the head of Javert. “Just the two of us and no interruptions.” I don’t reply as I place on the left leg on the aforementioned Javert. Scorpius hums to himself, the song being one I recognized that my band played. “Don’t you think so, Albie?”

I shrug, leaving Scorpius to sigh again. “Albus,” he says and then decides to change the subject. “What do you think I should wear to the lights this year?”

“I don’t know,” I reply back and Scorpius lets out another sigh. His sigh seems a little more frustrated than normal. He decides to repeat his question.

“Al, what should we wear this Saturday? I’m thinking my jumper your grandmum kitted, or should I wear my one with the snitches? _Oh_ , the nifflers wearing hats!” He rummages through his trunk, shifting through various of worn jumpers.

“I’m not going,” I mumble out and Scorpius lets out a sigh. He looks at the chipped black nail varnish on my finger, and the smudges of eyeliner that still cling to the underneath of the bags of my eyes. “I don’t think I should,” I add, and I can practically feel the wave of disappointment Scorpius has with my decision.

“It’s tradition,” Scorpius says back. It’s a small, desperate plead, but with little effort. “We always go see the lights in Hogsmeade.”

“I don’t—“ I look away, starting to pick at the black nail varnish. “I don’t think I should go. But you can go,” I add quickly. “Don’t let me be the reason you don’t.”

Scorpius looks at the ceiling, then scoots away from his trunk and places himself onto the bed next to me. “We always go together,” he repeats.

I let out a heaved sigh, frustrated and shutting my eyes. “I don’t—“ My eyes squeeze even harder. “You should go without me, _okay_?” I feel a tear trickle out my eye. Shoving my pillow to my head, curling up. Under the covers of my bed. “I don’t want to go,” I huff out. “I don’t want to go to stupid Hogsmeade, with all the stupid couples and stupid people and stupid shopping.” I make a low grumble with my voice. “I don’t want to look at the stupid lights. I don’t want to look at stupid displays. I don’t want—“

“Well, maybe this isn’t about you,” Scorpius snaps, removing himself from the bed. “Ever think of that? Maybe I _like_ going to see the lights with you. Maybe I _want_ to hold on to some of these stupid things. Maybe, for once, I just want to do a nice holiday event with my best friend. But _no_ , I can’t, because you’re moping _again_.” He sighs. “I get it, Al. Jake’s a fucking jerk for breaking up with you after a shag, and is the biggest _arse_ this side of the world. But _maybe_ , for once, I wanted to not have things be about _Jake_ and have fucking fun with my _best friend.”_ I blink, looking over at Scorpius, shocked. Scorpius doesn’t usually explode like this. “For once, Albus, can’t we just do something _fun_ together without your moping? He broke up with you, it’s _over_.” Scorpius sighs, then tosses a small box onto my bed. “By the way, Happy Birthday.” Scorpius slams his trunk shut, which startles the little ferret on the window sill. 

My heart sputters at my best friend’s anger. I hadn’t seen him explode like this in a long time. He hasn’t ever been this frustrated with me before. It makes my heart churn, realizing just how fucked up I really am. I sit up on my bed, still startled by Scorpius’ words.

“My birthday isn’t until June, you know that.”

“Yeah, well.” Scorpius scratches at the back of his neck. “Go on, open it.”

I pick apart the wrapping, pausing to read the card attached to the parcel. “Albus, Happy One Year. Love, Scorpius xxx.” I pull off more paper, revealing a small jar of pepper imps. I am confused. “What is this for?”

“I was going to give it to you Saturday, but you’re not going to the _stupid_ lights. Saturday marks your one year of sobriety from potions.”

“You remember?” My heart swells. The thought that anyone remembers is one that is foreign to me. I know people know what happened, but I don’t think people keep track of my progress. The thought that Scorpius does is odd, yet comforting in a way.

“Of course I do,” he whispers. “How could I forget?” Scorpius goes to sit beside me. “Al, you were absolutely _fucked_ out of your mind. Because of _school_. How could I not remember?” Scorpius hesitates, but goes to put a hand through my shaggy hair. It’s grown a lot longer compared to the patchy mess it was a year ago. Scorpius ruffles it, just staring at me.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I reach to grab the plush owl from the corner of my bed, squeezing him to my chest. “Merlin, I’m so sorry, Scorpius,” I repeat, eyes leaking tears again “I’m such a horrid friend, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s,” Scorpius pauses. “It’s okay, Albus. It’s okay.” Scorpius bends over to give me a hug, and I latch on not detaching until my sniffles leave me.

“Do you still want to go see the lights with me?” I ask, my voice coming out softer than I can remember it being.

“If you promise to act surprised about the dinner I had planned,” Scorpius replies back, his voice equally soft.

“You planned a dinner, too?”

“Y-yeah. It’s a big deal. I thought maybe celebrating would be good for you.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I think about a year ago. I think back to the times where I was bed ridden, and all the hospital visits I endured over the past year. I think about being stuck in my dorm all last term, and how it was being stuck in the hospital over winter holidays. I think of how Scorpius was kind to me, even when he wasn’t supposed to be. I think of when in the hospital, he didn’t laugh at my stupid haircut or treat me like a patient. He was kind, and he was patient.

I decided to go to my trunk by the end of the bed and pull out a jumper. I pull out a worn jumper with hippogriffs dancing on it. It’s one from my uncle’s joke shop, and in some situations the hippogriffs can be charmed to dance and move. It was under his advice that I shouldn’t keep them charmed in certain situations.

“I was thinking the hippogriffs could go with the nifflers,” I suggest.

Scorpius smiles. “That’ll be _perfect_.”


	17. Colours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus makes a striking realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry so much for the gap. Last Monday was my grandmothers birthday, then I went out for a weekend. I hope everyone had a wonderful week and here's the next chapter!

My Hogsmeade outing wasn’t anything spectacular. Scorpius and I went and saw the lights. His excitement was one that was predictable, while I spent my time trying not to recall the last time I was at Hogsmeade. I hadn’t set foot in the village since mine and Jake’s breakup, and all the hordes of people were overwhelming.

Scorpius grabs my wrist sympathetically as we gaze at the lights surrounding the town. I feel myself start to panic when people get closer to me, and Scorpius looks over at me, frowning. I try my hardest to ignore this feeling. After all, I was told it’s _annoying_ and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin Scorpius’ precious desired outing. He had fought me so hard to go, and I didn’t want my dumb moods to ruin it.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and I nod quickly, focusing straight ahead at a statue in the distance. It’s a tribute statue for the war, remembering all those who lost their lives in the battles. The names are blurred as I focus trying hard to not be annoying. I start to get light headed and hear an echoed voice.

“His face is really pale, man.” I can’t place the voice and the next thing I notice is I’m secluded from the crowd. Scorpius is standing over me, with Lorcan feeding me some chocolate.

“Thanks Cody,” Scorpius says, turning his back to the boy and focusing his attention on me.

“Does he need to go to the nurse?”

“He needs to go to a fucking shrink,” the other voice says. It’s less kind.

“Lysander.” The words are rough, harsh even. “No, he just needs some space. It’s a neurological thing. We’ve got it. Thanks…” Lorcan searches for words.

“Cody.”

“Thanks Cody.”

“Does he need anything else?”

“Can you get some water? That’s it.”

Lorcan’s eyes scan over my body, as Scorpius rests his hand on my head. “He’s warm, Lor,” Scorpius says. I take a deep breath and Scorpius shakes his head. Lorcan makes a soft noise. “Albie, are you alright?” He asks me, handing me the bottle of water that Cody brought over.

“Fine,” I mumble out.

“Al, if you weren’t feeling well, why didn’t you tell me?” Lorcan shoots a glance over at Cody who in turn nods, taking the hint and leaving. Lorcan opens up another bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece and handing it to me to nibble on.

I shrug, quietly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Al, if you’re sick—“ Scorpius stands there, baffled. He looks to Lorcan for guidance, who just shrugs. “You can’t help not feeling well.”

“I know how I can get annoying.” Lorcan looks at Scorpius concerned. Scorpius glances back. He leans in to whisper something to Lorcan who just nods in return.

“You’re not annoying, Al. Who-who said you were?” I stay silent and Scorpius turns his head back to Lorcan. Lysander is standing by and Lorcan shoots him a glare.

“Didn’t say a thing,” Lysander promises.

“Did _he_ tell you those things?” The word he is said with a sting in his voice. Scorpius wasn’t normally unfriendly, but the voice sounded more like his father than his normal self. Lorcan and I didn’t need any hints as to who he was. We both knew that the dreaded person was my ex-boyfriend. My heart flips and churns as the words my ex says stick in to my head. I shrug my shoulders, but that seems to give Scorpius a good enough reason to believe that what was he was expecting was correct. “He’s an _arse_ Al. A right twat. You can do _so_ much better,” Scorpius reassures me. “Don’t ever feel like you’re being annoying, okay?” He says to me softer. He is bent to my side like how my mum would talk to me. “You’re not, and being overwhelmed is nothing to be ashamed of. We should leave,” Scorpius says, nodding at Lorcan and Lysander.

The twins agree, and we all go back to the castle instead of my celebratory dinner. Instead, we snack on sweets that were brought up from the kitchen, Lorcan and Lysander finally joining us for a game in our common room. We play until the remaining students come back from their Hogsmeade trip, the twins deciding to leave when they see a flood of seventh years enter the room. Scorpius and I then take that as our cue to leave, heading to our dorms to get ready and sleep.

I’m tugging on my baggy t-shirt I sleep in when Scorpius bounces himself on to my bed. He readjusts Hooty from my bedside and adds Elma next to him. He’s resting on his stomach as he stays put on my bed, hands propped under his chin. “Did he say things like that to you a lot?” Scorpius asks. I shrug my shoulders and Scorpius frowns, rolling over on his back. “Things like you not looking nice or needing eyeliner, or how you’re annoying. None of those are true. You’re not annoying, and you do look nice. One day, you’ll see that someone who wants to date you will notice those things too.” His face is a bit red, although I think that is because he is upside down. “You’ll see. Who knows, it could even be someone you know who likes you.” He flips his body around, blond hair tumbling back in to his face.

I think of someone who I know and my heart flips again at the thought of another boy liking me. I wonder who it could be, and thinking back to the past few months I think I know. “Is it Lorcan?”

“Lorcan?” Scorpius asks. “It could be,” he says, sitting up. “Or maybe it’s someone else.”

“Not Lysander,” I tell Scorpius. He shakes his head. “Hey Al, have you finished our charms paper?” I shake my head, and Scorpius goes in to depths of charms. We lose track of our prior conversation.

I cannot wait on the train ride back home. We’re sitting in the compartment at the back of the train, much like Scorpius and I have done since we started school.

“So this is where you guys sit?” Cody Finch asks, slinging a bag on to a compartment floor. Lorcan and Lysander join the compartment. “No wonder no one has been able to find you. So what happens on this magical journey home?” He asks, grinning at us all. For some reason, he’s started to tag along more than he used to. Scorpius doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Scorpius and I exchange presents,” I inform him. “Then we just talk.”

“Fantastic.” Cody leans back in his seat, urging us to continue our yearly tradition. Scorpius and I stay weary of the new addition, keeping our gift exchanges quieter. I hand him over the parcel, as he hands me mine. His is a leather bound journal with his initials carved in it. He hands me mine, which is a similar gift.

“For Raging Fire,” he tells me. Some of the pages in the journal are blank, while other pages are blank sheet music. “And tell the lads hello,” he adds with a soft smile. For a brief moment, it’s just the two of us in the compartment. I feel an urge to kiss my best friend, but refrain from doing so. Especially not if Lorcan has a crush on me.

The train comes to a screeching halt, causing Scorpius to tap his expensive watch and glance out the window. He laughs to himself. “Have we _really_ been taking that long? We’re—we’re here. Tomorrow I’m taking a portkey to Switzerland.”

“Lucky,” I tell my best friend. “While you get to be in Switzerland I get to go to the Scamanders. Then to my muggle family on Boxing Day.”

As soon as we disembark off the train, I can feel Scorpius being stolen from me. His father has enveloped him in a massive hug, one that he wouldn’t have done years prior. I look over and hold my hand up to him in a wave, as he does the same when he is released from his father’s grip.

My own parents swarm me in a hug, enveloping me close and ruffling at my hair. Mum presses her face in to my hair and presses a kiss on top. Dad hugs me tighter than before, and I know both of them are relieved that this year isn’t like last year.

Arriving at home, I can practically feel my self being crushed as I go put my things in to my room. My older brother is home for the holiday, and he takes this moment as one to tackle me to my bed. I feel myself being smushed under the weight of his athletically inclined body.

_“Albie!_ ” He cries out to me, pinning me on to my bed. He’s ruffling madly at my hair, running his fingers through it. “Come give your favourite brother a hug!”

I struggle to push him off. “Where is Ted?” I tease, still struggling to push at him. He takes my struggle as the cue to get off, worried that he’ll actually hurt me like he would if he were to do such a thing last year. He scoots off to the side, sitting beside me as I sit up.

“Pissed at you,” James teases, running his fingers through my hair. He scowls at the blond strip. “Blond, really?” He asks. He ruffles my hair harder, scowling more at the texture from the bleach and the straightner.

I shove his hand away. “Fuck off,” I tell him, shooting him a glare. “Ry did it. Well, actually his girlfriend did.”

“Did she do the lip, too?” He asks, reaching out to flick it. “Or the eyeliner?” He smiles playfully. “And the nails? When _did_ my baby brother become an emo kid?”

“You don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s you,” he teases back. “But really, _why_?”

“The boys and I started a band and I dunno, I just _like_ it. It’s cool. It’s different.”

“Well, it certainly fits. You’ve always been brood and moody.”

“Maybe the correct term is _artistic_ ,” I correct my brother. He just looks at my room and then shakes his head.

“You should probably change. Mum and Dad said we’ve got dinner at the Scamander’s tonight.”

I let out an aggravated groan. I had already seen Lolly and Lys today, although I know it’s just an excuse for our parents to get together. They usually want to start doing any sort of gathering they can when the opportunity arrives. The fact that the gathering just so happens to be on the arrival day of the train doesn’t change their desire to see each other.

“Tough luck,” James says, reaching to ruffle my hair one last time before going out of my room. He gives me a smirk and a wave of his fingers as he leaves. I can hear him inside his bedroom talking loudly to himself while getting ready and I don’t hide my roll of the eyes. Being on a professional quidditch team hasn’t changed his attitude one bit. If anything, it’s made him more obnoxious.

I throw on some ripped skinny jeans and a black band t-shirt, a zip up hoodie put over top. My piercing is still in my lip, and my eyes have recently been realigned with eyeliner. I come down the stairs to looks from my dad, but Mum just hushes him and we enter the floo.

I feel queasy and sick as I leave the floo, my world spinning. I already have a headache, and when Lorcan and Lysander come over looking more alike than not, I squint and groan. “If the two of you are going to fuck with me then I’m going to lay down.”

Lysander crosses their arms and shoots me a glare. “No need to be a flobberworm about it, Alley. We’re just expressing ourselves.”

I flip up my finger at Lysander and go up the stairs to a spare bedroom. It has maps all over and some journals on the desk. It’s a guest room, but it’s also the space where Uncle Rolf works sometime. I reach over and grab at a toy beast that is resting on the bed and hug it tightly. Sometimes I can get away with my lack of participation in social events, but that is usually only at the Burrow. I decide the risk is worth it, and I’ll deal with the consequences later.

I hug tight to the beast and curl up. I just hope that I can fall asleep until it’s time to leave. I hear voices outside the door and my ears perk up. I’ve been alive long enough to have them trained to catch certain words or phrases. Usually words like _disorder_ or _therapy_ trigger me awake, even if the words aren’t directed at me. “No need to fuck with him Lys _,”_ the voice says. “Scorp’s not here to set things straight. You know he has shit eyes.”

“He doesn’t have to be such an unsocial arse about it. He’d probably be a bit better if he socialized more and expanded his horizons.”

“You’re being a dick. Go see Lily.”

“At least I have a dick.”

I hear a snort and the voice I assume to be Lorcan snarks back. “We’re twins, arseface. Identical twins. Go see Lily or James and leave Albie alone.”

“Fine, but it’s not my fault he’s antisocial, Lorcan Newton.” The voice is snarky, annoyed even. I can already imagine Lysander tossing their hair dramatically in a pretentious way.

“Oh, we’re doing full names now? Then go see Lily, Lysander Theseus.” There’s some sputter and a grunt, following by a slam of the door. I can hear the door to my room creek open. There, standing in front of me is Lorcan Scamander, in a patched jumper and trousers. He has his hair loose and tucked behind his ear, cleaner than it was than when we were on the train.

“Come to see the antisocial freak?” I snap at the boy. Sometimes Lysander and Lorcan switch places, which throws me off. Sometimes they do it on purpose just to mess with me.

“Hey,” the blond Scamander greets. “You heard Lys then?” He goes to take a seat beside me on the bed.

“What’s not to hear? I’m an antisocial freak.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“He doesn’t mean it, Al. He’s trying too hard. Lys is trying to be cooler than he actually is. Trust me, it’s really annoying. He-they’re-sorry, trying to be some sort of progressive thing. Something about freedom and expression an all that shite they try too hard to input in to their lives. Mum says it’s a phase, I think they’re being a pretentious arse. See, Lys likes to think they’re some sort of masterpiece, but they’re just generic. Like—like street art. Lys is like street art.” Lorcan goes to remove himself from the bed and goes to walk over to the maps that are on the desk. “Trying to be all cool and out of the box and forced creative. But you, you’re more like museum art,” he explains. “Something unique and real and not forced. You’re _way_ more talented than Lys can ever dream to be.” Lorcan looks at me with a smile, and the words that Scorpius said to me ring in my head. Perhaps, Lorcan _is_ the one who has a crush on me. ”Right,” he says holding out his hand to mine. I grab it, and he pulls me off the bed. There’s a bigger hint of a smile as he tilts his head at me, tucking long hair behind his ear again. “Let’s go,” he decides for me, and I follow him out the room and down the hall. “There’s some mistletoe and nargles about. I want to rid of them.”

I don’t argue. Nargles are always something the Scamanders talk about, but I’ve never seen. I recall countless of times being told to rid of something because of nargles. The twins seemed to have gotten their mother’s ability to sense these creatures. That, or they just humor my Auntie Luna. Both are Ravenclaws, so that’s a possibility.

I follow Lorcan out the door, Hufflepuff gear thrown at me. We’re standing outside in the brisk cold of December. I can see my breath in the air as Lorcan hangs over the railing to move the dreaded plant out and away. “There were too many people in the living room. It’s bad for nargles. It’s better out here,” he tells me with a soft smile. “You look nice, Albie,” he compliments. “Hufflepuff suits you.”

I awkwardly laugh and blush. “Funny. The hat wanted me there or Slytherin.”

“I can see why.” His smile is bright, but different than Scorpius’. It doesn’t light up a room, but it’s kind and sweet, much like Lorcan is.

“Lolly,” I whisper, my childhood nickname for him slipping off my lips. His lips twitch in to a smile and he and I both lean in and kiss. It’s blissful and warm, comforting, even. It reminds me of all the times as kids when Lorcan would accept me, would go the extra mile for me. It’s not the same as Scorpius, however, nor is it anything like the roughness of Jake.

“Al,” he says as we break apart. His eyes are warm, but his voice is one that hints of concernment. “Albie,” he says again. “We shouldn’t—“ he starts, but the moment is stolen when our parents come outside. Mum and Auntie Luna are standing outside the door.

“Al, come in. You’ll catch cold!” Mum calls.

“Lorcan, come inside as well.”

“Next time?” I ask Lorcan hopefully.

“Al,” he starts but sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ll tell you later.” He nods, and we go inside to play some board games with our family.

I’m lying in my bed the day after Christmas. It’s Boxing Day, but we don’t have to go to our muggle relatives until tomorrow, thankfully. There’s homework piled on my desk, but I’m doing my best to avoid it, instead rereading a variety of chapters from _Les Miserable_ for the second time. I have only received one letter from Scorpius the entire holiday so far, and I anxiously wait for his next letter.

“Wake up, entertain me, I’m _bored_.” The noise pulls me away from my book. I feel the crushing weight of my brother again. He’s sitting on top me, not unlike our sister did yesterday for Christmas.

“Entertain yourself,” I tell my older brother. He snorts going to get up off my bed and go sit in the pile of blankets I keep in the section by my nest. “Out,” I tell my brother. “Out my nest James.” I reach over to throw one of my pillows at him. My brother instead takes that as a cue to grab at my little plush owl. He makes the toy flap it’s wings and then flies it up to some of my other stuffed animals. He’s purposely making a mess of things. As always, his boredom usually involves me.

James takes my owl and makes him fly up to the other stuffed animals again, making the toy crash and knock the others off the shelf they were sitting on. I scowl at my older brother, shooting him a glare. “Did you come in here for a reason, or just to mess with Hooty and my things?”

“I’m bored,” James tells me again. He drops Hooty and flops on to my bed.

“Well fuck off,” I tell my brother. “Amuse yourself,” I tell him sitting up. I reach out for the jar of pepper imps sitting by my bed.

“Mum didn’t give you Pepper Imps in your sock did she? I thought she gave you chocolate.”

“Mum didn’t give these to me, Scorp did. For my birthday.”

James reaches for a pepper imp, only for me to swat at his hand. “Your birthday isn’t until June. Are you telling me you’re _hoarding_ candy in here?”

“Not my real birthday, Doofus. Scorpius calls my anniversary of my…last year… my birthday.” I wince, and James does as well. I don’t want to think about last year at all. I just want to focus instead on this year.

“Oh,” James says and he gets quiet. He always gets quiet when that time is referenced, and I don’t like seeing James act like that. He puts two and two together and pushes his worries down. “So you have _two_ celebrations in December. Geeze, how spoiled can you get?” James teases.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, because I totally planned having a mental breakdown just so I could get extra holiday gifts,” I add dryly.

“Your sarcasm, Little Brother,” James says, reaching to ruffle my hair. He’s pleasantly surprised at how easy it ruffles now that it’s grown out. He takes pleasure in messing up the strands. “It _wounds_ me.” He places his hand over his heart. “Your hairs a lot longer,” James acknowledges. He reaches out to grab a strand and pulls it out far.

“Mum didn’t take me last summer. I haven’t cut it since last December.”

“It’s a little rougher, too,” James says, “and a bit blond.” He raises a brow.

“Ry was dating a girl who was practicing her hairdressing skills on me. She bleached a part of it.” I reach up to scoot my hair back in place. “And Jake used to use a lot of straight charms on it.”

“Ted’s going to _murder_ you.” James’ brows lower in concentration, furrowing at the unfamiliar name. “Jake?”

“Oh,” I reply quietly. My eyes lower, and I bring my knees back to my chest. “We used to date.”

“A boyfriend? Why the _fuck_ does no one tell me my baby brother had his first boyfriend?” James throws his hands up in the air dramatically. “So what was he like? Was he _cute_ ,” James teases, waggling his eyebrows. He shoots a look down at my black chipped nails. “Is _he_ why you’re suddenly interested in makeup?”

“Fuck off. I’m surprised you didn’t see the tabloid. The whole family did.”

“ _Wait_ ,” James pauses. “That was _you_ caught shagging? I thought it was a _prank_. I didn’t see it until one of my teammates showed me. So, ickle _Albus Severus Potter_ was _caught_ shagging. So,” James says, suddenly interested. He clasps his hands together. “Tell me about this boy.” I wince. He looks down at my nails. James catches the look I give him. “Not a good story?”

“I loved him James,” I confess to my brother. “I _loved_ him more than anyone else. But he _dumped_ me. Because I’m a _shitty shag_.” The tears started to fill up in my eyes and James’ expression changed in a way that I hadn’t seen him do in a long while.

“He broke your heart. He shagged you and dumped you. What a fucking _prick_. Did you at least try that stupid hex?” I shake my head and feel myself being crushed in the hug of my older brother. I don’t even protest, much like I would normally do.

“I just didn’t want to give up my only chance. I never thought I’d have friends, let alone a boyfriend.”

“But now you do, and you did. And a band. And he was just a selfish jerk using you for that Potter name.”

“He broke up with me _because_ I’m a Potter.”

“Oh. Well, who _cares_. He’s not worth your time anyway.” James goes to pick up Hooty, which he knows always annoys me. I don’t like James messing with my owl. James makes Hooty flap his wings before dropping him and reaching up to grab my toy dragon, Dragon. He squeezes the toy’s stomach, watching as fire coloured streamers pop out the mouth.

“Did you come in here to harass me about my ex-boyfriend and bother my toys?” I asks, snatching Dragon away and placing him back on the shelf. I dust Hooty off and place him gently back on my pillow.

“Rude. Wanna play quidditch or something?” He asks, rolling over and resting his stinky feet on my pillow. I cringe, making a note to tell Mum to do a cleansing charm when he leaves. “I came for amusement. Do you want to play quidditch with me? I’m really fucking bored. Lily’s not able, and Mum will start getting into training mode and Dad’s getting too old. I know you hate quidditch but I’m _desperate_.”

I know the answer he’s expecting. Almost every time he asks, I say no and he mopes and sulks until I give in and then I get creamed. I think of the post on the school board. I know it’s a long shot, and I know it’s not likely. But the concept of doing something excites me. I think back to last year when I couldn’t even leave my bed. I don’t want a repeat of that, and an idea enters my head.

Cory MacMillen got banned for the remainder of his final year for quidditch. His tampering has really angered our house, and he’s become the most shunned person in his year. Everyone is angry that he’d destroy our chances at winning the house cup. There were try outs at the start of January for a new keeper. Something inside me clicked, and I realized that I didn’t want to end up going my whole Hogwarts career without participating in something.

“You know Cory MacMillen?” I ask my brother.

He raises a brow, confused as my answer wasn’t no to his desired question. “Al, please do _not_ tell me you fancy the bloke.”

“No! I don’t!” My face is heated red. “No, he got caught tampering during Slytherin’s last match and got kicked off the team. Keeper tryouts start in January.”

James perks up, going to steeple his fingers together. “Yeah?” He asks, glint in his eye.

“I think I want to try out for the team,” I tell him.

“I thought you hated quidditch?” James asks.

“I don’t hate quidditch,” I tell my brother.

“You don’t?” James is surprised. “You always detested games aside from the ones with your _stupid_ crush.”

“The noise,” I remind him, “And the crowds, but I was thinking of trying out. I probably won’t make it. But after spending all second term fifth year not even allowed to go to the Great Hall for dinner, I just wanted to do something. And no offense to Scorpius, but academic clubs are off the table. I get enough school during the day; I don’t really want to spend my time doing _more_ school.””

“I can help you,” James says. “We can train and play together. I’m not the best at keeping, but you will be.”

“I don’t want to make this a serious thing. It’s _just_ for fun. I don’t want to get all stressed out again.”

“Fun. We can play for fun. The weather is shit right now, but what about this afternoon? I’ll do some warming charms and we can play. Or tomorrow, if the weather doesn’t clear up. How about tomorrow? I just remembered Mum’s out with Auntie Luna and her twins, so she’ll probably bring them along.” He speaks about the twins as if they were five and not almost sixteen.

“Fuck,” I say, as James sits amused on my bed. He tilts his head at my swear, a coy smile on his lips.

He steals a glance at the Goncalo Flores poster that winks at him. “Something happen with the Scamander boys, Albie?” There’s a tilted grin on his face. “You and Lorcan were pretty close the other night.”

“I kissed Lorcan,” I confess. “Under the mistletoe. And he kissed me.”

There’s a playful smile on James’ lips. “You did, now, did you? Was it a _good_ kiss?”

“I also kissed Scorpius,” I add. “After Jake and I broke up.”

The amused look on James’ face changes. He goes from his look of pretend interest into actual interest. “You _kissed_ Scorpius after your breakup? Did he kiss you back?”

I nod, and James watches as I chew at my bottom lip, chewing around the lip ring. He notices that my eyes are watering and I am moments away from tears. “What if I fucked things up with Scorpius?”

“Al,” James says calmly. “You can’t fuck things up with him. He cares about you.” James reaches out to ruffle my hair. He winces at the texture and bleached bit. He makes a tsking noise and shakes his head. “You should buzz your hair off for quidditch,” James teases. “Some guy on our team did that. Said it improves wind speed and aerodynamics.”

I scowl at my brother, even though I know James is playing around. “I haven’t cut it since last year. It took me a year to get it like this. I might get Teddy to fix it when it gets a little longer.”

James shakes his head. “I’m fucking with you Al. I know you won’t. I don’t want you too,” he decides to say. “It’ll be too much like last year.” He says it. James says it, and I hear the words from my brother I didn’t want to relive. “Anyways,” James says, pushing himself up and off the bed. “If you wanna do quidditch you should probably exercise more and stuff. Get healthy,” he says, pulling a pepper imp from the jar when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“Maybe. I don’t want to take this serious. I don’t know,” I mumble. I slump in on myself again. “I don’t know what to do. Last spring I spent all term in my dorm aside from classes. My head of house lied and told everyone I had an extreme case of potion poisoning so I wasn’t able to _do_ anything aside from classes. Most in my house and year knew it was a mental breakdown.” I fiddle with my thumb nail and look at the threads on my bed. “My therapist told me I was having all the symptoms of addiction. But he noticed all the stress got to me and it was a mental breakdown. I haven’t seen him since the start of Hogwarts. He’s going to be so fucking pissed about Jake.” I let out a huge sigh. I don’t normally confess a lot to my brother, but it feels good to finally tell someone. It feels good to have a fresh perspective on someone I thought I was in love with. It was the point of view from someone who didn’t see the relationship at Hogwarts, but got to hear my side and not interrupt my feelings with their opinions.

“I’m sure your therapist would agree with you doing healthy things like exercising and your music,” James points out. “But unless Jake was like a case of good witches gone bad—“James stops, looking at my face. I guess it was red, or I was blushing or something. “It _was_ , wasn’t it? Jake was like when good witches go bad, those stupid raunchy trashy hetero wizards read. He was one of your stupid impulsive decisions. Fuck,” James sighs. “I need to stop dabbling into this world of mental health and research and shit. Focus on more important things, like quidditch.”

“He wasn’t _impulsive_ ,” I defend. My tone of voice changes and I feel myself reverting to years younger when James would work me up. “He was, shit, I don’t know. I _liked_ him! He was _nice to me_. He was just _different_ and I don’t _know_ ,” I end up with a whine, the whine turning to a sigh. “I liked him. He was different. He had this heir to him that I liked and I felt _alive_.”

“So he was like a drug? You just weaned off one unhealthy addiction to another, because you wanted to feel good again.”

“Stop. Stop trying to play my therapist, and bloody _stop_ trying to over analyze things. When the fuck did you start caring so much about this anyway?”

It’s James’ turn to huff and glare. “Since I saw my baby brother _fighting_ for his life in a fucking hospital. I was there, Albus! I saw _everything_. The tears, the cries, the heartbreaks. I saw your bloody best friend in _tears_ in the waiting room. I saw Mum and Dad _crying_. I saw Lily _bawling_. Do you _know_ how hard it was for Ted? You made Teddy Lupin’s hair go _white_. So sorry for _analyzing_ shit. Al,” James says, calming down some. “He doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship—“ James pauses again, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, no, _you_ were the good witch gone bad. You were the one cooped up all last spring under strict rules and then when you returned to freedom, you went wild.”

“You need to stop over analyzing this shit _right_ now. We came to school, I saw him in the back to school commons party. I liked his shoes; they were purple converse. I liked his look; he was hot. I asked him out. We dated, then he broke up with me because he didn’t want to be associated with a Potter. Please don’t read into it,” I groan, covering my face with my hand.

“Albus,” James says quietly. “Can I talk to you about something serious?”

“Only if you agree to be,” I tell him simply.

“I’m always serious,” James jokes. “It’s in my middle name.”

I wince at the pun. James is always trying to force that pun in to any situation he’s trying to make light of. “Go on,” I sigh, waving my arm to gesture for my brother to continue.

“I know you can’t help it, but you need to understand there’s a difference between people who are being nice, and people who are flirting. Not everyone who is being nice is flirting with you. If you ever have trouble understanding it, you know you can always come to me, or Lily, or Teddy, or Mum and Dad. I don’t want you to end up with a slur of shitty men because you can’t differentiate between their flirting actions and their being nice. Just remember that, and try not to dive head first into relationships with boys you just meet. Now,” James says, changing the air of the conversation. “You want to be a keeper, do you? I’ll make a keeper out of you yet, young grasshopper,” he replies, tapping his fingers together.

I am so thankful when we’re interrupted by Auntie Luna coming over. The twins have arrived and I’m torn away from my brother’s awkward lectures one again. I know he’ll probably revisit the talks of my ex-boyfriend again, but for now I’m safe from his awkward tales and trials of being that protective brother.

“Hey Albie,” one of the twins greets me. I squint, trying to tell which one it is. My decision is made for me, as my sister grabs Lysander away. James stands besides us and smirks.

“Hey Lorcan,” he begins. “I think Al wanted to show you that thing he got for Christmas,” James says.

I give a glare to my brother, before remembering that he was actually trying to be helpful. “Oh, yeah,” I say suddenly.

Lorcan smiles. “Sure. Lead the way,” he says to me, shoes removed the second he entered the house. He follows me into the blue painted room with stars charmed onto the ceiling. He looks around at the posters and the photographs, both muggle and magic, patched onto the wall. Lorcan wanders to the photographs on the wall and grins at me as I close the door. “Remember your ninth birthday party at that water park?” He asks. “Rose was angry at your friends because they put her down the slide backwards.”

“She still hasn’t forgiven me,” I laugh lightly. ”For having such an _immature_ birthday party.”

Lorcan snorts. “It was fun. Teddy was the cool big kid chaperone, James was the slightly cooler big kid chaperone who tried to act older but really wasn’t, Lys was doing flips on the rope swing and Rose kept telling us the importance of waiting thirty minutes to swim after eating chips.”

“Mum and Dad kept entertaining Lily and Hugo in the kiddie area, while Uncle Ron begrudgingly kept trying to get Rose to stop pouting over getting splashed and ride the slides with him.”

“It was fun,” Lorcan repeats. He goes to take a seat on my unmade bed. He gives a small smile at the kiddie sheets Mum had put on my bed. They were faded and old, but they were printed with dragons on them. “Remember when you stayed the night at our house? Lys started crying because you wet the bed and they thought they’d drown,” Lorcan chuckles lightly. I turn pink in the cheeks, and I hope Scorpius _never_ hears that story about me. There are many things I don’t ever want him to know, and most of them involve my childhood.

“I guess I did have some friends.”

“I can’t speak for Lys, but I’m your friend. Even when you did wet the bed and have terrible haircuts,” Lorcan teases, going to swipe at my hair. He doesn’t ruffle it like James did. “So what was this _thing_ you wanted to show me, or was this just James trying to get us alone? He saw us, didn’t he?”

I bit at my lip and shrug, going to run my finger over my lip ring and shake my head, confused. “He didn’t, I don’t think. But um, I did write a new song. Do you want to hear it?”

Lorcan nods, closing his eyes and listening to the chords that are strummed. “It’s great, Al,” he says, meaning it. I can tell by the way he’s saying it. “Your guitar skills are amazing. So are your painting skills,” Lorcan says, looking at the canvas that lay on the floor. He smiles at the canvas laying on the desk, drying. “Your arts incredible. Mum loved the sunset you painted her. Said it was like looking at serenity.” Scorpius would love it,” Lorcan adds on. “Just like he’d love the song about him.”

“How did you--? I mean, no, it’s not…” My cheeks heat up. I do _not_ have a crush on my best friend. I _can’t_ fancy him. He’s not—that’s just not something that will happen…

Lorcan chuckles. He sits next to me and crisscrosses his legs. “It is. You fancy him, and its okay if you do,” he says. “You wouldn’t be happy with me, you know,” Lorcan says, and presses his face close to me. “I don’t want the same type of relationship you do. I just like kisses and hugs, from multiple people sometimes at the same time. I don’t want the label of a boyfriend, because somedays I might want to, and somedays I might not.” Lorcan is smiling at all his words. “I want you to be with Scorpius, because he makes you smile like your music does. But we can be friends that kiss, and friends that hang out, and friends that talk and do art together. But not boyfriends.” Lorcan leans in closer to wipe the corner of my eye. He presses a kiss to the corner of it. “You’re such a special boy, and Scorpius is such a special boy. You two go together like your canvas and paint. He’s the paint to your canvas. That colour to your world.”

I blink, and suddenly everything makes more sense. It’s almost like a black and white moment. Lorcan has always just got me. He has always knew the correct words to say, or the right phrases. All his analogies are things like art, or music, which he knows makes sense to me. It’s as if he spends his free time studying how to make sense of me, unlike his twin who has little patience when it comes to me.

“Then what are you?”

“The frame,” Lorcan says simply. “The frame supporting you both. And Lysander is that piece that tried too hard to get into the museum and is being removed for being too common. Lily’s the floral painting that’s pretty as a picture; your Mum is a sculpture, the type that’s fiercely protecting her young. James is one of the Greek sculptures because of the obvious, and your dad is probably one of the vases.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask, tilting my head. Lorcan almost always has a reason for telling me things in these analogy ways. It’s a Scamander thing, because his mum does the same thing.

Lorcan shrugs, getting off the bed and grabbing at my ferret from his cage. Lorcan wasn’t ever able to sit still for long periods. He was always moving around when he talked. “Because it’s true. You love Scorpius, and you should be with him. The two of you need to start sorting yourselves out. You’re feeling better, clearly, and you’re clearly ready to date, considering last term. You’ve got this, Albie.” He lays the ferret over his shoulder, wandering to more photos on the wall. Lorcan scrunches his brows, focusing intently on a picture.

“James thinks he wasn’t a healthy decision. Dating my ex-boyfriend, I mean,” I confess to my friend. Aside from Scorpius, Lorcan was always one of the easiest people to talk to. He was never judgmental towards me.

“James thinks a lot of things,” Lorcan replies simply. He doesn’t keep his eyes off the photograph. “But what James thinks doesn’t necessarily mean it was a wrong decision. You’re free to live your life. Sometimes wrong decisions help us realize our rights.”

“My therapist is going to agree with him.” I groan.

“Your therapist is going to agree with whatever makes logical sense and focus on past patterns and how likely you’re going to incorporate them into your current decision making. Jake was an impulsive decision because you craved intimacy. You wanted someone who didn’t see you as a patient, or as a kid in the hospital. You wanted someone who saw what you wanted them to. Jake let you live the free spirit you wanted to release.”

“How did you know this stuff?”

Lorcan shrugs. He smiles at the photograph, then leaves the wall and sits at my desk chair, Draco sitting on his shoulder. “Simple, really. When we were seven, Lys asked Mum why you were so weird. We had come back from the muggle zoo and you had one of those overwhelmed things. That thing where you get upset and need to go take a nap. Mum told us that your brain didn’t see the world the way ours did. Ours being without a disorder or whatever. Sometimes Mum took us to the muggle library because Mum liked the story times they did. I went to the lady at the desk and I asked her if she had books on things in the brain and told her what I was looking for. I found some muggle text book about psychology and read it. Sometimes I go back and read more books on it. I liked knowing how you’d react when we played. It made it easier.”

“But _why_?” The thought that anyone would actually do this surprises me. Scorpius and Lorcan get along so well because they both go straight to research first. It surprises me that _anyone_ would research how to play with a child who was slightly fucked up and antisocial.

Lorcan just shrugs. “I just did. I just wanted to. I liked knowing how to make you happy. Mum said you had a lot of problems making friends and I wanted to make things easier.”

I tuck Draco in the crook of my arms, still confused as to why anyone would try and make things easier for me. “I don’t get it.”

“There’s nothing to get. Maybe it’s a Ravenclaw thing, wanting to know how things work. I just liked knowing how to make things easier with you. Maybe it’s the Hufflepuff in me, but everyone deserves to be understood.” Lorcan moves from the desk chair to the bed. He looks out the window and grins. “Put Draco up, lets go outside,” Lorcan announces. He takes one of my beanies and plops it on my head, the black fringe starting to peek out. “Your hair’s getting long; I like that,” he says, tossing me my Slytherin scarf. “Come on,” he says, tugging at me with a soft smile on his face.

We go down the stairs and out to the back garden, Lorcan going straight to the wooden playset and sitting on a creaking swing. He rocks back and forth and sends a smile over at me. “Mum never got us one of these. I wish we did. I always thought it was fun. Especially in the summer when we’d be out the pool and then run over to dry off with the swing.” He pushes himself with his foot, twisting back and forth.

“Why did you never come see me in the hospital?” I wonder out loud. I don’t mean to blurt it out, but Lorcan doesn’t seem offended.

“Mum sent you flowers. I don’t think it was my place to come. I don’t know,” Lorcan confesses. “Lys said that it was dumb you let someone get in your head like that. That you let pressure get to you and have a mental breakdown. Your mum said you were in tubes and I don’t want to see you in tubes. I’m not sad I didn’t go, because I got to visit you when you were at home in bed. Besides, you needed Scorpius; I didn’t want to intrude.” Lorcan gets off the swing and goes to pull lightly at my swing, letting go. He then takes a seat on the cold, plastic slide. “Scorpius wrote letters to me. He kept me in the loop, so did Mum, obviously. But I liked the loop I was kept in. I didn’t feel a need to go visit. Plus, Scorpius was the only non-family allowed to visit. It was your mum’s request.” Lorcan crosses legs on the plastic slide. “Scorpius is a better griever. Lysander accepts death as a way of continuing on. I suppose spirits do that, after all. When people get sick, they look different. Scorpius told me about his mum. Plus, I don’t like places that I feel suck out your creativity. Hospitals are white walls with white floors and like a blank canvas.” Lorcan stands up from the slide. “The kind of canvas with lines, telling you how to paint, and where to paint. I don’t think that it matters if hippogriffs are painted pink,” Lorcan says, giving me a wonky grin. He reaches his hand out. “Want to go back to your room? I’m getting cold and you’ve got ripped jeans.” Lorcan takes the hand of me and grins. “Oh, I like your black nails. Can you do one of mine red?”

“I only have black,” I tell him, looking down at my own chipped nails.

Lorcan shrugs. “Then one black. I think they look neat.” Lorcan holds my hand, walking to the house. “Then after, let’s watch that film. Not that new one, but the one with the cowboy. I haven’t seen it in ages, not since I last stayed the night here when we were little.”

“You mean _Toy Story_?” I ask him.

“Yeah, that. The one with the cowboy and the spaceman. And the talking potato. Not the new one, but the first one. The one your mum always insisted we watched when you were little because it was your favourite.”

“Okay,” I agree, tugging off my beanie when we enter the house. I can hear my sister and Lysander talking when I take Lorcan back up the stairs. I pull out the little glass bottle that I hold so sacred now, dipping the brush in and gently painting black on Lorcan’s pinky nail. I’ve gotten a lot better now that I can do it myself. At first it was sloppy, but now it looks kind of decent.

When Lorcan’s nail finishes drying, we go back to what used to be the playroom and I rummage through until I find the old copy of _Toy_ _Story_. It’s worn with age because I’ve seen it so much. As we sit down side by side, Lorcan produces my glasses from his pocket, handing them over to me, going to ruffle up my hair. He causes it to stick up everywhere, but allows me to rest my head on his shoulder as I start to rest some. I close my eyes as the music starts to lull me to sleep, dreaming of Scorpius.

I think I have a crush on my best friend.

Actually, I think I _know_ it now.

Fuck.


	18. Stepping Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its a whole name attitude--Albus starts with some small changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so so much! I love all the responses and the love that's been given <3

I immediately regret my decision to let James help me prepare for quidditch try outs. I’m lucky on Sunday, when I don’t have to get up early. However, I am not thrilled that the time is spent instead getting ready for my family’s annual visit to my muggle relatives. I dislike visiting them at all, and even Dad and Mum are pretty tensed about it. If it weren’t for my Auntie Issy being persistent about family and Uncle Dudley keeping in contact with his only cousin, then we’d probably never see them.

Nothing has ever been fun about visiting my muggle family. Dad and Uncle Dudley sit there in silence, sipping on their tea. Occasionally they would mumble something to one another, while Auntie Issy would talk to my mum about motherly things. She almost always tries to impress us with her finest biscuits and china, as if she were having over her in laws, whom I’m glad I’ve only met once.

While the adults talk, James, Lily, and I are almost always forced to spend time with our cousins. They’re muggle, and perhaps if I wasn’t so used to my friends Scorpius and Lorcan, I’d consider them to be some of the most boring people in the world. They think James, Lily, and I are odd, although I have a bit of more of an excuse.

This time Lily is with Poppy, while James is with Henry. In earlier years, Lily and Poppy would be playing dolls, or some sort of girly activity. Now, they’re in her room squealing over boy bands or other things I don’t have any desire to chat about. I snort inwardly, pulling out my mobile to text my muggle friend.

_SMS Dyl: My sis and cousin are squealing over that band u like_  
SMS Dyl: might I tell them ur feelings on him???  
SMS Dyl: F off Albie. 

I laugh, and Mum looks over in my direction. Dad, too, making a gesture to hand over my phone. I scowl, putting my hands over my chest. I press my back into the soft sofa.

“Teenagers,” Uncle Dudley says, forcing out a chuckle. He raises a brow at my dad. He knows we’re wizards and that we don’t normally have the same technology, but he never says anything to his wife about it.

“Tell me about it,” Dad replies back, his own laughter forced.

“How is he feeling, Ginevra?” Auntie Issy asks my Mum. “You mentioned last time he couldn’t come because he was on bed rest. What happened?” She asked.

Mum winces at the memory. “Oh, you know,” Mum says, waving her hand. She tries hard to block the memory from her mind.

“Oh dear,” she says, going to pour more tea. “Was it a special needs problem?”

It’s my turn to cringe. I really dislike people making a big deal of my freakish behavior. I know I’m shit at people skills, but I never had to be put in those classes at muggle school with the kids who needed extra help with things.

“He just got a bit overwhelmed is all. Big test year,” Mum replies, taking a sip of her tea. “Al’s doing much better. He and his friends have even started a band.”

“I remember O levels,” Uncle Dudley adds. “A lot of chaos.” He gives my father a bit of a look, indicating that he knows it isn’t O levels that were my stressful reason.

“Yes they were,” she agrees, sipping on her own tea. “What is it that he wants to do?” She asks, which causes my Uncle Dudley to derail and spill his tea. “Oh!” She notices the splotch on his shirt. “Let me get that for you, Dudders.”

My dad winces at the nickname. A slight smirk forms on his lips and Mum lightly smacks his arm, sharing an inside joke of sorts. As soon as Auntie Issy leaves the room my Uncle Dudley lets out a bit of a sigh. “That was a close one. Er, what is it that you’re studying?”

“Healing,” I reply.

“You guys have doctors?” He sounds shocked, but his shock wears off when he realizes how foolish his answer must be. “Er, of course you lot do. Magic Doctors. And James is an athlete. Like you, Gin?”

Mum nods. “Chaser. Like a um, striker?” Mum questions. “Same role I played.”

“Right. Okay.” He nods, brightening up some when his wife comes back in to the room.

“Oh, if only there was a way we could magically get stains out of ties,” she laughs, causing my Uncle Dudley to go red in the face. “But of course that’s not true!” She laughs again. Mum presses her lips together, as does Dad.

“Mum!” The voice calls out from my younger cousin, Poppy. She’s almost eleven, although she and Lily have more in common than I do with any of them.

“Mum!” The voice roars. It’s her older brother, Henry. “Poppy is doing _it_ again. Tell her to stop messing my stuff up.”

“Oh, dear,” she mumbles red in the face. She goes up the stairs in a rush, which causes Dad to raise a brow at his cousin. Dudley in return looks away.

Mum takes that as her chance to set her cup down and smile awkwardly, tucking some hair behind her ear. “This was lovely tea. Thank you so much for the invite.” Her smile is tight, much like it always is when she’s in these type of environments.

“Uh, yeah. Have a good one.” Uncle Dudley mumbles, sticking his hand out for my dad to shake.

“Al, go get your brother and sister,” Dad says, and I agree, eager to leave. Both seem pleased to leave, although Lily says something that startles Dad.

“I think Poppy is a witch,” she says, and Dad’s knuckles get white as he squeezes at the steering wheel.

I am relieved to be at home and change out of my dressy clothes when James walks in to my room. “Up and at’em Al. We couldn’t this morning, but now we can. It’s bootcamp. Albie camp.” He laughs at his own joke. I wince, then go to light up a cigarette to ease my own anxiety from the social situation that was prior.

James knocks it from my hand. “Nuh-uh. No smokes. You wanna be a keeper? Time to practice,” he says. “Let’s start off with a jog. Then some laps ‘round the garden. Then I’ll make you a power shake.”

I groan, but James has his hands crossed. There was a reason he was captain of the Gryffindor team from his sixth year onwards. He was tough, too. Lily always said how hard he made them workout. Rose, too, often said he wasn’t an easy going captain.

I am not looking forward to my jog as I put on a t-shirt and my trainers. During the entire thing James pushes me in ways he hadn’t ever. I run until I feel my lungs about to burst and even though it’s cold outside, I feel myself burning up. I pause just a bit and pull my inhaler from my pocket. I rarely need it anymore except when I have my allergic reactions.

My brother watches as I take a puff. He’s a little irritated at the time it takes, but he doesn’t say anything to me, instead tapping his foot. “You done?” he asks, as I swallow my last bit and nod. “Good. Now let’s do some practice in the garden. Mount your broom, and let’s toss the quaffle a bit.”

I listen to my brother and get on the broom. I’m doing far better than I was the first time I had tried at school. This broom seems to get along with me, and I must not be doing horribly considering James is beaming. “Good Al!” He calls out. “Good balance!” He wraps his legs around his broom and tosses the quaffle over at me. My eyes aren’t very good, but I do manage to slightly catch the large ball. My brother grins at that. “Good, let’s go again.”

We spend the next hour and a half passing the quaffle back and forth while I’m in the air. Each time I get just a bit better, and I’m nowhere near as horrible as I was when I was a first year and horrible at my flying skills. James has some unique practice ideas, but somehow they all seem to work.

We play until Mum calls us in for dinner. By that time both James and I need to shower. Dad grins at the two of us. “You interested in quidditch, Al?” He asks, eyes brimming with hope. I know how much it bothers him that I discarded my interest in the sport as soon as I hit school age. It wasn’t even my bad encounter with Goncalo Flores, since Mum and I had a redo. It was just me getting tired with not fitting in, and knowing I would never.

“He’s going to try out,” James replies. He doesn’t wash up like Mum asked, instead taking a seat and scooping some potatoes to his plate. “Keeper.”

“Keeper, Al?” Dad asks, and I blush a little red.

“Yeah,” James replies for me. “Keeper. Just a bit more work and I think he’s got it.” Dad brightens at the mention of quidditch and takes a bite of the dinner he cooked. “Some arsebag got kicked off the team. Al’s gonna take his spot,” he says.

Dad smiles at me. “Excited Al?” He asks, and I shrug.

“You’ll do great, Sweetie,” Mum says encouragingly.

The first day James doesn’t wake me up early to train is the first day he’s gone back to work. I am relieved to have a break from his training regimen. It’s intense, and now I know why he was placed as team captain. When he’s really passionate about something, he has his full effort.

It’s the second to last day before I have to go back to school and aside from doing some homework, I pick up my guitar and go see my band again. All the quidditch training has taken away from band practice, and I’m eager to get back to where my passion lay.

We easily pick up where we left off last summer. Ryan is on the drums, with Ash on guitar and Dyl on bass. As soon as we start playing, everything falls back in to place and it’s like I hadn’t even left. I show them a few new songs I dabbled with writing, while Dyl shows me his bass lines he’s been working on. All in all we’re able to put out a few new videos on the video page that the boys had set up. We’re actually gaining fans which is surprising and something that I never thought I’d actually like as much as I do. It’s different to have fans for something you’ve put your heart and soul in to, verses having fans because of who your father is.

When I arrive home the night before I’m set to go back to Hogwarts, I hear some rustle in the house. The lights are off, and it’s dark. I can hear Lily’s voice and even hear the hushes from my parents. James is back at his job, which my body is thankful for. I flip the switch on and there, on the coffee table is a large parcel. It’s the size of a broom stick, and I find myself wanting to duck away and hide from all the attention.

“I know you’re only trying out and there’s not a guarantee,” Dad says. “But we wanted to get you something. We’re so proud of you, Al,” he says.

“Open it!” My sister squeals.

“Okay.” I tear off the brown paper wrapping and my eyes can’t believe my gift. It’s a new broom, an updated version of the one I had been practicing with.

“James mentioned how much more comfortable you were on his old one. We know how hard you’ve been working, and we’re so proud of you and all your exercising habits. Even if you don’t make the team,” Dad says, “We still wanted you to have this for how proud we are to see you overcome such a hardship.”

A year ago I would say that the reason I received such a gift was because I didn’t die, and they were guilty. I still think that could partially be an inclination as to why I got a version that was more up to date than my sister’s, but I don’t tell my parents that. They seem so proud that I’m actively trying to get involved in school activities.

“Thanks,” I say again to my parents.

“They just _gave_ you the broom?” Cody Finch asks me as we sit in the compartment on the train. “Your parents just _gave_ you a top of the line broom? Al, you _really_ need to make the team this year. We’d be _unstoppable_ ,” he says, admiring the broom. “You are going too, right?”

“Quidditch is so passé,” Lysander says, to which Lorcan shoots him a glare and then a smile at me and at Scorpius.

“That’s great, Al,” Lorcan says, patting my shoulder. “Get you back in shape and stuff. We should jog together sometime,” he says. “I like going every Tuesdays and Thursdays in the morning. I prefer to do it as the sun rises. It’s calming.”

“Can I ride it?” Scorpius asks me. Even he, who isn’t as interested in the sport seems interested in the broom.

“Duh,” I reply, which causes Lorcan to smile. “How was Switzerland?” I ask my best friend.

“Pretty. We went skiing, drank cocoa, and met with my Greengrass Relatives. Dad was a lot more attentive this time around, and even though my Malfoy grandparents didn’t understand my NEWT focus, Dad seemed fully attentive. Grandpa Lucius said healing was for _girls_ and Dad immediately shut down that idea.”

“You’re doing healing?” Cody asks. “I don’t even have a set focus. Maybe an auror. Or maybe a groundskeeper. I kind of want to go in to the quidditch world, but Mum’s scared it’s too dangerous.”

“Beasts,” I say. “At least, that’s what I think it is, right?” Scorpius has changed his mind every so often, it’s often hard to say what his current focus is.

“I think I want to work with healing creatures. Help those who can’t help themselves.”

“Oh. What about you guys?”

“They’re fifth years,” I correct. “They’ve not yet had their OWLs.”

“Our Great-Grandfather is Newt Scamander,” Lysander says haughtily. Lorcan rolls his eyes.

“We’ll probably follow in his footsteps,” is all Lorcan says.

“I’ve got prefect duties,” Scorpius says, glancing at his fancy watch. “Be back,” he says, giving me a warm smile. Lorcan nudges my arm and I shake my head. I still don’t think he likes me like that. I don’t think there’s any chance that Scorpius may like me like that. He’s always been that type of person who is nice to everybody.

“Are you guys like, a thing?” Cody asks. Lysander snorts once again, which causes Lorcan to scowl at his twin. “Because there is so much gay tension in this place.”

“No,” I say quietly. “Scorpius doesn’t like me like that.”

“Are you sure?” Cody asks.

“Sure of what?” Scorpius pokes his head back in. “I’ve finished up some duties.”

“We’re not dating,” I say, and Scorpius looks at me confused.

“No…Al, we’re not,” Scorpius mumbles. “I mean…” Lorcan looks between us and shakes his head, shooting me a look.

“What was _that_ about?” Scorpius asks me later that evening. He’s fluffing at his pillow before going to bed.

“Cody thought we were dating. I don’t know why,” I reply.

“Cody’s just Cody,” Scorpius says simply. “But are you really going to try out for the team?”

I shrug. “I guess. I just don’t want to be stuck in my room again like last year.”

“You should try out if you want too. If you don’t, then don’t force yourself.”

“James said my therapist would welcome the exercise and positive lifestyle change.”

Scorpius nods. “That’s probably true. But if you don’t want too, then don’t,” he warns me. “I’ll support you either way.”

“Thanks.”

I force myself up early on Tuesday morning. Lorcan has mentioned that he jogs to clear his mind, or be one with the nature. James’ nagging voice in my head urges me to join him, so I tuck my inhaler in my pocket and meet my friend early.

“Alibe,” Lorcan greets chipper, for someone who is up _way_ too early. I wish I didn’t have to wake up early to run, but now James is implementing a habit for me.

“Lolly,” I say, yawning.

“Let’s get some stretching in before we run. Then once around the lake, or where ever our feet lead us. You might not know this, but my great-grandfather used to do a jog around his case. Tell Scor that,” he tells me. I stare at his feet confused. Lorcan and Lysander never wear shoes. If they can get away with it, then they will. But for some reason, the concept that Lorcan will run barefoot baffles me.

“Don’t you need shoes?” I ask my friend, confused.

“They only slow you down, Albie. When we went to wizarding parts of Africa, no one wore shoes.” He fails to mention that he wasn’t in a highly civilized town. It was common of the Scamanders to holiday in unusual places.

After one last stretch, Lorcan and I start jogging. It’s not as horrible as I thought. Running with Lorcan was easier than James. It wasn’t as intense, but Lorcan was more willing to go at my pace. He ran for leisure, not being afraid to stop periodically. If he noticed something, he’d stop and show me. I much preferred this pace than the one with my brother.

By the time we made it back to my dorm, Scorpius was just waking up. He gives me a sleepy smile, stretching his arms. His hair is all rumpled and sticking up, and he reminds me of a hedgehog. Aside from my ferret curling up to sleep, it is probably the cutest thing my eyes witness.

“Hey Albie,” he mumbles out, going to wipe at his eyes. “You’re up early.” His eyes are still dim, but he puts his hand to his mouth. “Or did I over sleep?” He asks, voice rising.

“Lolly and I went for a jog.”

“Oh.” He seems relieved. “Good. Shall we get breakfast? After a shower,” he teases.

“Meet you in a bit,” I say, going to grab my things and shower. None of the other boys seem to be in the bathroom when I finish showering, and I’m relieved at being able to put eyeliner on in peace. I hate having to explain just why I like wearing it. Many of the other boys just stare when I put it on, demanding some sort of explanation as to why I wear eyeliner.

“Well don’t you clean up nice,” Scorpius teases. He’s shoving some bread in to his mouth as he reads one of his textbooks.

“When I want too,” I tease back. Cody looks up from his section of the sports pages he was reading and snorts. I think I see a mouthing of _gay_ come across his lips. I take a piece of the muffin off Scorpius’ plate and put the piece in my mouth, throwing the other bit at the boy across the table. In return, he throws a piece back.

“Boys,” Scorpius warns, using what had become known as his _prefect_ _tone_. It was used when he wanted to be bossy, and sounded more like his father than his normal self.

“Scorp,” I reply back, playful smirk appear on my lips.

“Albie,” he warns back.

“Scorpy,” I tease back, leaning in closer.

“Just kiss already,” Cody whines. Scorpius blushes and moves his head away from me. I do the same. We slide apart from each other as Cody goes back to chatting about quidditch. “Al, you’re going to try out, aren’t you?” He asked. “Tryouts are _Saturday_ and we need that broom.”

I swallow, and Scorpius instead answers for me. “Of _course_ he is. Al will be up and over this Saturday. He’s not going to miss it.” He smiles warmly at me.

“Yeah,” I mumble back, uncertain. I know I want to try out, I’m pretty sure of it now. However, I’m still nervous about the whole process of trying out. I want to make the team, but at the same time I don’t want to make the team. It’s complicated in a way I can hardly explain.

Luckily, Scorpius seems to get me. We’re back in our dorms again, getting ready for bed. “You know you don’t _have_ to try out if you don’t want to. But if you do, you should. I think it’d be good for you.”

“You do?” Scorpius has been the only person who has seen me from start to finish in the whole mess of a year. He’s seen my ups and my downs, from when I couldn’t get out of bed to my fuck ups.

“Yeah. You’ve been doing so much better. I’ve even noticed your health increase. You’re less mopey. It adds to you in ways I haven’t really seen much of. You should try, really. Even if you don’t decide to be on the team, I think you should try, just to see that you can.” He smiles at me. “We’re all rooting for you, you know. Besides,” Scorpius says with a light grin. “It’d be nice to have someone I care about on the team.”

I blush at his response. The more we start to spend together, the more I realize that I really do think I have a full blown crush on my best friend. I can imagine myself and him, and the more I think about it, the more I like it. I’m infatuated with my best friend, and I can only hope he’s interested with me.

I do not want to be awake at seven thirty on a Saturday morning. I don’t think _anyone_ wants to be awake that early. I can see the others trying out with equally tired faces. Very few have determination on their faces, but rather, sleep in their eyes. My eyes are so tired I can hardly keep them open. Scorpius practically had to _drag_ me out the bed, and Cody was force feeding me coffee all the way here.

The stands are filled with a small handful of people. Scorpius is sitting in the stands with a warm thermos of hot chocolate, sitting next to Lorcan and a begrudged looking Lysander. Every so often I see him give his twin a glare. Next to Lysander is my little sister, Lily, her red hair pulled back and beaming over at me whenever I glance in her direction. She’s here partially for support, and partially to see who the new competition will be.

“When I call your name, please step forward,” the new quidditch captain says. She looks tough, with a haircut that seems to imitate one that I’ve seen in my mum’s old quidditch photos. “Unlike our prior captain, I will _not_ tolerate cheating, or any various forms of bullying. A teammate is like your sibling: you may not always get along, but at the end of the day you’re family. That’s my method for the upcoming term. I respect teamwork, and encouragement. Now, when I call your name, step forward. Just a reminder that our only open position is keeper, but I’m always on the lookout for reserve.” Her grimace is hard. She holds the clipboard tight in her grip.

A fourth year eagerly awaits their turn, and I watch as the younger one struggles. They’re not as confident, making easy mistakes. I’m surprised at myself for knowing the obvious they did wrong. Somehow, I packed away a whole bunch of quidditch knowledge that I didn’t anticipate myself ever needing to use.

A seventh year is up next. He’s got the same cunning look that the previous Slytherin Captain had. His look is of determination, and the snide remarks make the current captain roll her eyes.

A second year is up next, this one cocky and even more obnoxious than perhaps the seventh year. His balance is off, but he acts just like James in his confidence. It’s like when James tries to be confident in a task he will easily fail at. Like when my brother thought he could play guitar just because I could. He failed dramatically, and so did this second year.

“Potter, Albus,” is called next and my heart starts thumping. I grab my broom and mount it, the others oohing and aahing over the brand my parents bought me. I don’t want to be assumed I bought my way on the team, and give my best for my try out.

“Alight Albus,” the captain says. She grabs tight to the quaffle. “Let’s see how many you can block successfully. See if you’ve got any of your mum in you.” She grins at me, and I send a weaker one back. As I sit on my broom, I take a breath. The view from up here feels so refreshing. I feel like it’s just me and the quaffle. Closing my eyes, I focus, putting all my concentration on the job I’ve been tasked.

“Not bad Potter,” she says to me, counting all the quaffles I’ve blocked. Her brow is raised. “Not bad at all.” She gives me a warmer smile as she floats back down. “Alright,” she calls out louder. “We’ve got two more to try out, then we’ve finished for the day. The results will be posted tomorrow afternoon on the corkboard. Please let it be noted that whomever makes the team will do so by _earning_ it. Status, popularity, has nothing to do with it. That is all.” Some of the kids snicker, looking over at me. My face turns red, but the captain just nods at me. “Potter, looks like you’ve got some fans,” she says lightly. I notice that Scorpius is waving from the stands, and I bite back my blush and go up to the stands to see him.

“You did _great_ ,” Scorpius starts off in a ramble. He’s beaming and his light blond hair is whipped all over his face. Lorcan is grinning too, hand resting on Scorpius’ forearm. “You were awesome, Al. I knew if you’ve just focused you could do it. You looked great out there.”

“It was okay,” Lysander admits, and my sister shoves them hard.

“Okay? Al, you were bloody _brill_. Is that what Jamie had you up every morning for? That’s great,” she says and grins bigger. “You look so much happier. I think you’ll make it. That chaser keeps watching you,” she says, and Scorpius snickers.

“That’s Cody. He _really_ wants Al to make the team. Or his broom. Honestly, I think he just wants the broom on the team even if Al doesn’t make it.”

“Like anyone else _would_ make the team,” Lily argues.

“It’s all politics,” Lysander says. “The rich buy their way on. Case in point,” they say, looking at Scorpius.

Scorpius huffs, offended. “I did _not_ ,” he protests.

“They mean your dad. But I don’t think so. I know Lori, she’s tough. She’s not a nonsense taking type of captain. She’s fair, too. How she didn’t make it and MacMillen did, I think _that_ was rigged.”

“Probably,” Lorcan agrees. “It’s getting chilly and my feet are cold.”

“Maybe I’ve should’ve gotten you socks for Christmas,” I tell Lorcan, following him and Scorpius back up to the castle. I have my broom swung over my shoulder.

“Ew.” Lorcan shudders. “Trap my _feet_? No thanks.”

Scorpius laughs, slinging an arm around me and giving me the biggest smile I’ve seen on him yet. His smile is one that melts my insides, and my heart flips at his warm smile. I feel an odd sense of comfort from his arms, one that feels so warm and welcoming. It feels safe, and encouraging. It feels like I can almost do anything.

He makes me feel like suddenly school isn’t the worst place anymore.


	19. Goal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things start to feel right for Albus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely people for all your kind words and responses! I'm SO glad that people enjoy my fic and have it inspire their own stories!!

“Go on Al, _look_.” I’m standing behind the long line of people in the Slytherin Common Room.

“Go on,” Scorpius encourages me, as I stand behind the bulletin board. Cody stands behind me, next to Scorpius as we look at the list of all those who have tried out for the team. Cody’s eyes go wide as he reads the list, grinning wide at me. “Way to go, Potter!” He cheers, beaming at myself and at Scorpius. “We get the broom! You’re on the team!” He pumps his fist in to the air with glee.

My eyes rake over the list of the upcoming team for the spring term of my sixth year of Hogwarts. Sure enough, under the line of Keeper was my name: Albus Potter. Scorpius joins beside me, peering at the list, then going to pat my shoulder.

“You made it, Albie!” His grin is perhaps wider than Cody’s was.

I stand there, taking it all in, being congratulated by the rest of the Slytherins in the common room. All the ones that have seen me practice were equally as excited about me being on the team. Suddenly, my reputation as the Slytherin Squib, or the Crybaby Slytherin becomes forgotten as I make the team. Suddenly, everyone is proud of me, happy for me, enjoying my accomplishment. My shoulders are patted more, and everyone seems to be congratulating Scorpius as well. His pride is almost as strong as my own sense of accomplishment. I can’t take the grin off my face as I eagerly hop back up the stairs.

“I know I said I didn’t want to make this such a big deal,” I tell Scorpius, going back towards our dormitory. I hop on a few stairs on the way to our room. “But I’m going to write Mum and Dad,” I say. “I want to let them know. And Jamie,” I say, going straight to my desk and pulling out my ink and quill. Scorpius laughs lightly. He seems satisfied with my newfound joy.

“That’s fine. I’m going to write Dad. I haven’t written him since we came back from the holiday. I’ve been so busy with prefect duties and schoolwork. Whoever said OWL year was hard hadn’t experienced NEWT year.”

“It’s not even seventh year yet, Scor.”

“Don’t remind me,” he says back, going to work on his letter to his father. I take the silence as a chance to write my own letter to my parents and my older brother.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I’m just writing to let you know that I’ve made the team! I’m officially the keeper for the Slytherin House Team! Tryouts went well, better than I could have expected. My broom didn’t betray me like I thought it would have. It worked really well Thank you Mum and Dad for my broom, I don’t think I could have made the team without it._

_Aside from that, not much else is going on. It’s sixth year NEWT level which is just studying and homework and courses. Homework is starting to pick up just a little more, but not to the point where I wouldn’t have time for quidditch. I promise you I’ll write back soon._

_Love,_

_Albie x_

_Jamie,_

_Guess who is the next Slytherin Keeper? If you guessed Scorpius, then you’d be wrong. He didn’t even try out. It’s your favourite little brother, me, if you didn’t guess. I made the team! Tryouts weren’t horrible, and all your tips and bizarre tactics actually worked. Who’d of thought? That combined with the broom Mum and Dad got me, really pushed me forward in terms of making the team. One of the guys on the team, Cody, he’s super excited for to have me on the team. That, or my broom. The new captain, Lori, also seems super pumped to have me on the team. I think she’s a big fan of Mum, but she said that my relation had no part in my making the team._

_Practice hasn’t started yet, I just found out today. But I can say that Slytherin will kick Gryffindor’s butt this season._

_Albie_

I take my letters up to the owlerly when I’m stopped by my new captain, Lori. “Oi, Potter!” She jogs over to me. “Congrats on making the team. You Potters really do got that quidditch gene in ya, don’t you?” She walks beside me as I head to the owlery. “Just wanted to formally congratulate you and let you know our first match with you is Saturday. A bit o’a short notice but I’m sure you can handle it.” She watches as I tie notes to the owl, trying to remember something. I can see the look in her eyes as she seems to recall that I was sick last year at this time.”Er,” she corrects herself. “Let me know if you get ill or something, okay? I know you had that potion poison or something, ya? That’s what our head o’house said.”

I smile weakly at her, giving her a slight nod. “Will do.”

“And let me know if any o’the guys give you trouble. I meant it. Our team is a family, no hate here.”

“Sure,” I say back, giving a weaker nod.

“Especially that creep MacMillen. He’ll try any bit to sabotage our team now that he’s off. If he does _anything_ I’ll personally kick his arse back to first year. And Potter,” she adds with a hint of a smirk. “Practice starts at six. I hate tardiness.” She gives a sly grin back and turns on her heels.

Quidditch practice wasn’t the stressful hell my sister and cousin often described it as. The first ten minutes was Lori introducing me to the rest of the team before we even started any sort of warmups.

“Guys, this is Albus Potter. He’ll be taking MacMillen’s spot. Al, this is Lacey Finnigan, Evy Watts, and you know Cody, our chasers. Those two dudes are our beaters: Greyson Zabini and Owen Notts, and I’m the seeker. Her eyes seem to spark at the words of being the seeker. The other team mates nod in my direction, acknowledging that I am part of the team. The two girls smile at me while the two beaters eye me warily. “He made the team on his own accord,” Lori tells them. “So watch it.”

Lacey pulls at the ends of her bouncy blond ponytail. “Welcome to the team. Cody couldn’t stop talking about you and that stupid broom. You’re Rosie’s cousin, right?” She smiles at me, her blue eyes kind. “She’s currently with my twin.”

“Wait..” I pause. Lori glances at both of us, then shakes her head.

“Gossip time over. Time for practice. Warm up with some laps. Potter, Finnigan, enough chatter.” Lori crosses her arms. “Then Potter, m’gonna have you an’ Watts do some keepin’ practice. Now get to it,” she barks.

Practice is a little rough, but not the hell that I’ve been told it could be. At the end of practice, I find myself walking back up towards the castle with Lacey in tow. She’s carrying her broom over her shoulder, goggles perched in her hair. “It’s been good getting to know you. You’re a pretty good player.”

“I just didn’t want to spend another year uninvolved.”

“Oh.” She gazes at the castle walking up the steps. “You were ill last year, weren’t you?”

“Potion problems. S’not that big of a deal.” I shrug and Lacey frowns.

“I’m glad you’re better. So are most of the house. So I’ve got to know, are you and Malfoy like..?” She pauses, waiting for my answer.

“No!” I quickly shake my head. “He’s not—“

Lacey chuckles. “He is. I know he is. My sissy says so, and Emmie and I have the best gaydar around.”

“No, no,” I correct with a blush. “He’s got the hugest crush on Rose.”

“Used too. He seems in to you.” I groan, frustrated. Everyone keeps saying he likes me, but he _can’t_. I know he can’t like me because he’s him and I’m me, and we’re just best friends. Lacey hops up the final step and shakes her head, her bouncy ponytail flying around her face. “Right. Well, even if he _did_ like Rosie, she’s taken by Emmie. But he’s clearly not anymore. Hasn’t been for a while now. Not since fifth year at least. Do you like him?”

I blush, shaking my head dramatically. My answer however, doesn’t seem to satisfy her. She doesn’t seem to agree with my expression. “I mean, he’s _him_ and I’m _me,_ ” I try to explain.

“That doesn’t mean anything. If he didn’t care so much for you, you wouldn’t see how desperate he was last year. It’s different than just best friends. If you like him, you should tell him.” She winks at me. “You’d be surprised.”

“I-“ I shake my head and sigh. “I do, I think,” I confess to her. “But it’s complicated.”

“Of course. Oh,” she stops, pointing over in a different direction. “Emmie’s over there. I’ve got to go see her. Bye Albus!”

Scorpius raises a brow at me as I come and join him at the table. He’s writing something in his journal, while I’m still sweaty from practice. “What’re you and Lacey Finnigan going on about?”

“She’s on the team,” I respond.

“Yeah. How was practice?”

“Good. Everyone was nice. Even Nott and Zabini.”

“Owen’s been a bit of a mess since his father went to Azkaban. He’s gotten nicer, too, Father said. I don’t know, since Mum stopped having them over after Owen pushed me down and poured sand in my hair last time he was over. We don’t communicate anymore. And Zabini, Dad lost contact with his father after the war.”

“So you know them?”

“A little. Dad knows their fathers. It’s not like your family where everyone comes over for dinners and meets on the regular. It’s more, Dad keeps tabs on them, and vice versa. They send cards for important milestones, but we’re not close. It’s a sacred twenty-eight thing. They all like to keep tabs on the living. It’s a status thing. Mum never cared for it, but Father can’t help but follow in the footsteps. It’s how he was raised. I wouldn’t nor would I ever ask you to as my boyf—best friend-- but—“Scorpius stops himself and blushes a little bit at his correction. He glances over, hoping I didn’t notice his slip up. I do, but don’t say anything.

“Y-yeah,” I say. “I um, homework yeah?” I laugh awkwardly. Scorpius slams his book shut and nods.

“Right,” he squeaks out. “Prefect duties await!”

My first quidditch match on Saturday evokes every nerve in my body. I bid Scorpius farewell as I go sit with my team the morning before the game. Lori is at breakfast, lecturing everyone what to eat and how, talking about carbs and calories. Cody is ignoring her, ripping apart pancakes and French toast.

“Albus,” Lori calls to me. “You need to eat more than half a damn muffin. Have some sausage too.” There’s a snort from our two beaters, but not a word said.

“Oi, Pott-face!” I turn my head to the voice calling out. Standing by the house tables is Cory MacMillen. “Don’t fuckin’ choke, amirtie?” There’s some snickers from others surrounding him. Lori glares at him, turning her attention to her ex-captain.

“You want in writing how you’ve _fucked_ every chance of post-Hog recruits you’ve received? Because I’ll _gladly_ give you that parchment, Core.”

“Tch.” He waves his hand. “Like _you’ll_ ever be a successful captain.”

“We’ll win that cup, just you wait and see.”

“Right, and _you’ll_ suck my glorious cock.”

Lori scowls, and Lacey heats up. “Just fuck _off_ Mac, no one wants you on the team anymore anyways. Never _did_.”

I look at Cody who just laughs at my confusion. “Lace’s head over fucking _heels_ for Lor. Even I’m not _that_ dense.”

I blink, turning to look at Lori. “They’re lesbians?”

“Well, you know what they say about women with short hair who play quidditch.” Zabini laughs.

“Stop it,” Evy snaps. “There’s no fucking homophobia on this team. Yes, Albus,” she says my name rather harshly. “Lori is a lesbian and so is Lacey. Everyone in the Thomas-Finnigan family is gay. I thought as your father’s friends, you’d know that.”

“I haven’t been to any of those gatherings since I was six.”

“His parents stopped bringing him,” Lacey responds. “He had social issues.”

MacMillen smirks and I turn redder. Mum and Dad told some of their friends in a blanket statement, but it’s not supposed to be a widely known thing. Especially amongst other students. “Well that’s fucking true,” he laughs. “Can’t even go through school without a panic attack. Don’t choke, Pott-head.”

Lori grabs her wand and raises it at the boy. “You harass our teammate _one_ more time and you’re fucking _dead_ Mac.” She mutters a jinx and his legs tighten together. He rolls his eyes and huffs, bouncing away as the rest of the Great Hall laughs. “Don’t listen to them Al,” she says quieter. “You’re _good_ and you’ll do good. Come on, the game starts soon. We should all get ready.”

The guys pat my shoulder and nod at me comfortably. They’re not laughing along with Cory, nor do they even snicker. Cody wraps his arms around my wrist and shows me to the locker rooms where I’ll be changing. The other two guys on the team hand me over my locker, muttering a _scourgify_ at the one that belonged to their ex-teammate.

“It’s Mac’s old locker but we’ve cleaned it for you. It’s got some pinup of some veela witch, but you can take it down and replace it with someone else. Honest to the gods, his choice in birds was horrid. Everyone knows that Weasley was _smitten_ over Lupin.”

I wince, untacking some photograph of my eldest cousin. I don’t know how he got the photograph of Victoire, and I don’t even _want_ to know. She was a seventh year when I was a first year, making Cory a second year at the time. How they crossed paths, I don’t even _want_ to know. “Yeah, they’re engaged,” I reply calmly. “She wanted to wait until after her healing training ended before they went through with it. She’s wicked smart, going in to healing with terminal illnesses. That’s her focus.”

“And you’re focusing on healing for your NEWTs, too,” Cody marvels. “Shit those Weasley genes.”

“M’just getting signed to Tutshill,” Nott replies. “On reserve. Zabini’s going in to…”

“Herbology. Plants are easy shits.”

I give them both a smile. The conversation comes so easy. I’m surprised at how well everything is flowing, and how well we’re all working well together. It’s amazing to think that years ago I was the house joke, and now I’m in on all the house gossip.

“I fucking hate plants,” I say, to which Zabini gasps in mock horror.

“How do you _hate_ plants? It’s the fucking easiest class in all existence.”

“I’m allergic to almost _all_ plants in herbology. I had an allergic reaction during my OWLs.”

Greyson chuckles. “Longbottom told us that at the beginning of the year. Didn’t realize you were his godson.”

I wince. _Thanks Uncle Neville,_ I think to myself.

Cody bounces up and down. “C’mon, _guys_ , let’s get going!” He holds his fist in for a knuckle punch. The other boys join in, and I soon learn that it’s some tradition.

My first quidditch match didn’t go as expected. I did pretty well for my first match, blocking goals and staying atop my broom. Everything seemed to be going in my favour until towards the end of the match when a giant gust of wind came, knocking my fringe in to my eyes. I hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. It felt like just yesterday my hair was hardly long enough to be tucked by my ears. Now, it was blowing in my face, the blond strand dangling in my eyes.

I sweep it off my face quickly, blocking one last goal. We end up losing by one point, but the team isn’t upset with me. When I come back down, Lori stands there. There’s a hint of disappointment in her eyes, but she doesn’t express it. “Alright team,” she says, trying to keep strong. “New teams take a bit of time to learn their mechanisms. We just need to adjust, a bit more practice. So consider an additional one on Saturday next week, in addition to our normal Tuesday and Thursday practices. I want the cup this year. Spite Mac an’ all.” She looks over at all of us. “Oh,” she adds a little coolly. “Slytherin headbands are available for those that need them. They’re the band type.” She glances in my direction, indicating that she was aware of my little problem.

I don’t say a word, but the rest of my teammates look in my direction.

“You did _great_ , Al,” Scorpius chirps, patting my shoulder. “Amazing. Su _perb_.” He grins at me. ”You were in your element. I think this was a good move for you.” He walks with me back to the dorms, stepping in step with me. “I think you’ve would’ve totally had it, too. Just some more practice,” he says, rambling to me. ”I think next time you will _totally_ get it. It’s just an adjustment. Godric knows I couldn’t do keeping like you.”

“Thanks Scor,” I tell my best friend.

“Anytime. Hey, do you want to maybe finish a puzzle? All that excitement, I’m sure you’re tired.”

I think on it, then nod. An evening to calm down and be away from a lot of people does sound good. “Yeah. I’ll shower then meet you.”

“Great.”

I notice when I step out the bathroom that my blond strand is falling directly on the tip of my nose. It’s heavy with water, much how like my hair was before it got so short. I’ve always had very thick hair, usually needing it thinned when I’ve had it cut. I hadn’t even noticed how long it had gotten. Scorpius too, seemed surprised when I returned. He reaches to stick his hand in my damp fringe, moving his hand around to ruffle it.

“It’s so long,” he acknowledges. He reaches his hand back and wipes some droplets of water on his pants. “I had forgotten it had waves to it.”

“Lori had said something about hairbands,” I tell him. “She didn’t specify me, but—“

“Al, I think it’s time you go see your brother.” Scorpius reaches his hand back out and pushes the locks to the side.

I scoot my fringe back to how I had it and blow, a section of hair flying up.

I think Scorpius may be right. My head echoes his words over and over as I reluctantly stand in front of my older brother’s shop. I hadn’t stepped foot inside it since before fifth year, before I had that potion problem and before everything that made my life go downhill. Things had been so much harder then, but at the same time everything felt like the calm before the storm. Now, everything felt different. Everything started to feel like the puzzle was finally falling in to place.

I poke at my lipring and take a breath in. I had my game this afternoon. It was a bigger game, a pretty important one. As the season was starting to slowly tick down, every game was becoming more important to Lori. She wanted to make her final year worthwhile. She wanted to make the Harpies, her dream team. There was no doubt that she wouldn’t make the team, although she kept thinking every wrong move could lose her the winning shot, so to speak.

I push the door open and the eyes of my eldest brother fall on to me. He’s alone, as he would be at this time of day. I always preferred the hours where there were less people. Teddy gives me the widest grin as he comes over to envelope me in to a hug. I hadn’t seen him since the winter holidays.

“Well, well, well,” he says grinning broader. He places his hands on my shoulder. “If it isn’t my favourite little Albie. Finally got a mop again, huh?” He says, reaching his hand back in to my messy hair. He takes his hand and ruffles it around dramatically. He winces a little bit at the texture of my hair. I know he knows that I did some not so kind things to it, using bleach and charms that absolutely wreck my hair. “Bleach and coarse texture?” Teddy replies, raising a brow at me.

“I had a boyfriend,” I explain.

Teddy only smirks. “I get the papers, Al. Blond?” He questions.

“I’m in a band,” I reason. “Ry’s girl was practicing for hair school.”

Teddy shakes his head. “C’mon Al, let’s get you fixed up. “ He ushers me to his chair, running fingers through my hair. He’s smiling to himself as he rubs through the strands, tilted smile on his face. “You want what you had last year?” He teases me, reminding me of a year ago when my hair was short and horrible. I don’t say anything, but Teddy knows I don’t ever want to go back to that. “Before the you know,” he tells me. “Something kind of punky an’ what not.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I guess so,” I respond. “That’ll look good for the band. And not mess up quidditch,” I add on quietly.

“Quidditch? You on the team?” He starts sectioning up portions of my hair, clipping pieces in various positions. “What as?”

“Keeper,” I respond back. I catch a magazine from the corner of my eye and frown. The boy on the cover is overly cocky looking, and I recognize him as my older brother. “Why do you have that trash with James on the cover?”

Teddy combs and snips, adjusting his eyes to mine in the mirror. “I’ve been asked to do the hair of Puddlemere. Jamie’s idea. It’s good for business, too,” he adds, combing and snipping more at the back. He pushes my head down and snips again, letting out a tsk noise. “Did you use those bloody straight charms?”

“I had a boyfriend,” I remind him. “He thought my waves were dumb.”

“They’re not,” Teddy defends. “They’re cute. They’re you. He sounds like an arse. Why the bloody hell would you date someone like that?” Teddy asks, but then shakes his head. I catch him bite at his lip. I know he knows why I’d date someone like Jake. I know Teddy’s well aware of my social problems. “Albie, “he corrects himself. He continues to snip. “You’re much better now, it sounds. You don’t need some boy who isn’t kind to you. You deserve a kind boy.” He pats at my shoulder. “Like your band mates, or Scorpius,” he assures me. “By the way,” he says, dusting at my shoulder. “If your band ever need a hairdresser,” he chirps.

“Ry said his girl was going to be one.”

Teddy snorts. “Ryan’s girl? The one that did the blond?” I nod my head. “Yeah, tell her to retake colouring again. The blond was too brassy. But if you guys ever need me,” he says, putting that flobberworm in my ear. “I’m available. I can do these punk things you like.” He turns me to face him, starting to walk the scissors down the front of my face. I can already feel my fringe getting lighter. Teddy always knew how to fix my hair so it didn’t look horrible, and he knew how to work with the weight of my hair, instead of remove it like most others did. “Hold still,” Teddy says, picking up his wand. “I’m going to put this potion in it. It’s a conditioner potion to fix the damage.” He waves his wand to dry the damp from the potion and grins at me. “Better?” He turns me around.

I grin at my reflection. It feels loads better, and I feel loads better. The year where I looked nothing but sick didn’t make me feel like myself at all. I felt like a stranger in my own body, one that was stolen by potions and healers. It’s very similar to what I had the first time I ever ventured away from my floppy mess of my brother’s hair. The back of my hair is shorter, but the front remains long and swept across my face. It’s the same style of many of the boys in the bands wear.

“Yeah,” I reply to Teddy. I stand up, looking again at the magazine with my brother’s face on it. “You should really get better reading material in here,” I tease Teddy. He just laughs, swatting at me playfully with one of the rags he has on his table.

“If your band ever gets off the ground, then maybe I will.” He’s grinning back at me. “Ryan doesn’t still look like that douche ten year old, does he?”

I shake my head. “Nah, he looks like an Australian surfer twat.”

Teddy laughs. He fixes a smile to me as I get ready to go out the door. “Al,” he says rather seriously. “Don’t be a stranger. Please,” he adds on. Before I can get out the door, Teddy grabs my arm and pulls me in, going to give me a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t be a stranger kiddo,” he says, waving as I leave.

I make it back just in time for my match. I’m in the locker room putting on the last bit of my uniform when Cody comes over and grins largely at me. “Wicked. You look like you belong on the cover of _Witch Weekly_. Can I touch it?” He reaches out to touch my hair, grinning to himself.

“You’re weird,” I tell Cody, but he just grins.

We step out the locker room and on to the field. Lori gives an approved nod in my direction. “Lookin’ good Potter. Think you can finally see the quaffle?” She teases.

I laugh, but don’t say anything. Instead, I’m forced to my position on the pitch. I do my best to block as many quaffles as I can, eyeing the other team. We’re playing against Gryffindor, which is just my luck. Rose and Lily are chasers, and I can see them narrowing their eyes and trying to weave around the pitch and others. A quaffle is thrown in my direction and I do my best to toss it away from the goal.

My head is spinning as I do my best to focus on the game. The crowd is cheering, and when Rose throws a quaffle at me once again, I grab it, chucking it across the pitch once more. There’s a bit of a pause when I notice that others have noticed Lori spotting the snitch. She spots it, and zooms after it, fighting the other seeker and skidding to a halt on the ground, snitch in her fist.

We’ve won our match. I’ve won my first game, and fly down to the pitch to celebrate. My hair is ruffled and we’re hugging in joy. I’m not even a touchy-feely sort of person and I’m still allowing them to hug me.

The cheering is a blur when Scorpius runs down to the pitch. “Albie, you were _amazing_ ,” he cries out. He’s decked out in all sorts of green, blond hair shining even brighter. He can’t help himself in the excitement as he wraps an arm around me and kisses me _hard_ on the lips.

I bite back a grin. Suddenly, we’re in our own little world. Scorpius scoots back, face light red. His eyes change from the excitement to worry. “Did I--? Oh, I didn’t go too far, did I?” He asks me.

I shake my head. “No,” I reply. I’m still on the high of winning. “I’ve wanted to do that all term,” I say, and kiss him back on the lips.

A smile comes back to Scorpius’ lips. “I’ve wanted it since last year.”

“I’ve wanted it since we’ve met,” I reply teasing him. He takes a minute to realize that I’m joking and laughs.

“I’ve wanted it since I was _born_ ,” he teases back. He presses another kiss to me.

I laugh. I can’t help myself and I start laughing, going to press my forehead against his in another kiss.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Cody shouts. He’s laughing hard from the high of winning. “We’ve got drinks and snacks in the commons. _Drinks and snacks_ ,” he stresses, staring at the two of us. He stays behind as the others are already running up to the castle.

“Are you guys _finally_ together?” He asks. “Or is this still one of those gay things?”

Scorpius and I look at each other, our smiles mutual. We both are smiling and say in unison, “ _Yes_.”

Cody grins at the two of us, watching as we link our pinkies together. My black nails are linked to his dark green. “About fucking time,” he says, staring at the linked pinkies. “About fucking time.”

Not even winning the house cup could compete with the thrill of winning my first quidditch match.


	20. Summer of 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus starts to reconsider his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for all the love. It's been so helpful, especially since I've been ill on and off this past month <3 I appreciate you all so so much!

The final summer of my final year at Hogwarts had already started off so much better than the one before. I wasn’t ill, I had a boyfriend, and my band was booming. My seventeenth birthday was filled with my best friends and my boyfriend, the lads taking me to a shitty pub while my boyfriend sat back and laughed. He saw no harm in their playfulness.

A few of my teammates were welcomed to my family party at the Burrow. They all seemed more than thrilled to be invited, and it took Cody no more than five minutes to devour the chocolate cake my Gran made. He was on his third piece when Rose came over, Emmie Thomas-Finnigan attached to her grip. “Happy Birthday Albie,” she tells me. Her words are kind, perhaps kinder than she normally can be.

“Happy Birthday lil’Albie,” Teddy says, coming over to ruffle my hair with his free hand. He has a package in his grip, his fiancée Victoire standing beside him.

“’Appy Birthday Al,” Vic adds on. “Can remember when you were terrorizing Domi at your fifth,” she teases. She bends down to press a kiss to my cheek.

Cody gapes at my older brother and his fiancée. “He is _so_ cool. How the hell does he keep his hair that blue?” He asks in awe.

“Metamorphamagus,” Scorpius replies. “There’s some trace of it in the Black side. He’s my cousin.”

“So you an’ Al are related?” He asks, then lets out a snort. “Fuck, purebloods man.”

“Teddy’s my godbrother,” I explain. “He’s my dad’s godson. My grandfather and Teddy’s dad were best friends. We’re not related.”

“His dad was the _coolest_ teacher according to our dads,” Lacey replies with a nod. “Everyone liked him. Except your dad,” she says to Scorpius.

“I know. Dad says that often. How are things going with you?” Scorpius redirects his question to Lacey, wanting to get away from the subject of his dad.

“Fine. Getting ready for the upcoming year. I’m going to see Lori on the Harpies next month,” she says beaming. Since Scorpius and I got together, Lacey came out with a huge crush on Lori. They have been dating ever since. “What about you and Al?”

I grin. “Been playing with my band more. We’ve got some gigs coming up.” The truth was we had grown more serious. The lads and I were getting even more serious than before. The thought process between us had grown to the possibility of us not continuing our schooling and going straight into the whole band thing. Dropping out was a possibility on the horizon, although telling anyone that who wasn’t in the band was a risk. My parents were adamant about me finishing my schooling. The have always been adamant about it, even when I wanted to drop out in my first year. Despite everything between us, my dad still has the notion that Hogwarts is still one of the best places on Earth.

Scorpius nods at the girl. “We’re doing great. I can’t wait to enter seventh year with Albie.” He beams at me, going to press a small kiss to the side of my head. “Isn’t that right, Albie?” His grin is radiant, one that makes me fall for him even more than I have. I can’t believe everything I have now. A year ago I was recovering, hardly able to go to any events. I still get overwhelmed at parties, but things are different now. I’ve gotten loads better, even my band have noticed.

“Oh, Al!” A voice calls over to me. I look over and see Lorcan. He and his twin aren’t matching. Lysander has their hair in some stupid trendy style while Lorcan’s is long and tucked behind his ear. “Happy Birthday Mate,” he greets me with a kiss on the cheek. There’s no ill look from Scorpius, as he trusts my friends. “Still not as rad as that water park,” he teases.

Cody’s eyes widen. “Water park? You’re _so_ lucky for having a summer birthday.”

“Don’t ever mention that to Rose. She hates that birthday.”

There’s a giggle from Lacey. I want to assume she knows the story based on her sister, but then I look up and over, and there next to my mother is my old team captain. Lori had graduated at the end of last term, making the Harpies. She was currently hovering around my mum, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

“Albie,” Gran calls from the porch. Everyone had already sung happy birthday. “Albie, come here and its time to open your gifts,” she calls out. I furiously blush, feeling like she was treating me as if this party were for a seven year old, instead of someone turning seventeen. I expect to hear laughter, but instead, eyes are wide and eager for me to open my gifts.

I had already received multiple gifts from my band mates. The lads had gifted me various band equipment: new straps, strings, picks, along with a better amplifier with more sound options. We were serious about our performances, and while Ash sometimes joked about stopping his school to focus full time, I always kept that in the back of my mind. I wanted the band to go far, to succeed. I wanted that lifestyle, to reach others. But I couldn’t express that just yet. It was my birthday party, and I had presents to open.

“Okay Albie,” Gran says to me. “You know how this works.” I just give her a polite wave as she holds up her magical camera. Mum has hers up, too. The cousins have slowly stated to gather, and most of them are pretty generic with gifts. It’s much like our secret santa we do.

I start with some of the smaller packages. Most of them are various candies and baked goods from my cousins I’m not as close with. I smile and thank each of them, popping a piece of a fudge fly in my mouth. The next group I came upon were the gifts from the cousins I was closer to and some of my family. There were many gifts from Uncle George’s shop, and I make sure to make a mental note to hide every single one of them from my older brother.

Lori and Lacey had given me some new quidditch equipment while Cody got me a broom repair kit. He grinned as I opened it, and Scorpius just chuckles. Cody has made it clear that he wants my broom, and wants to protect it at all costs. Teddy had gotten me a large book on the history of punk, while Vic had gotten me a similar book on punk fashion. Lorcan had gotten me some art supplies and Lysander gave me a duffel bag.

“For when your band go on tour,” they say cheekily. “In case you know, you decide not to go back for seventh year.” They give me a look, which is soon tarnished by a very heavy elbow from Lorcan. Lorcan stares at his twin and just shakes his head. His eyes flash to anger. “Lys, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” He hisses.

Scorpius narrows his eyes at me. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he puts the two together. He quickly detaches from my grip and runs off. I had promised him I’d open his gift alone, anyways, but this just makes me panic and chase after him.

I run to the end of my grandparent’s property. My Gran has an old swing tied to the tree that I had played on when I was younger. It was far away from the field where quidditch was played, and closer to the Scamanders place. I see Scorpius sitting on the swing, pushing himself back and forth. He has tears spilling from his eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but Scorpius shakes his head. “Don’t say anything, Albus.” His eyes aren’t the friendly shades of grey I’ve come to love. They’re angry, flashing even. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I-“I shake my head. “I hadn’t decided.”

“Decided on _what_ , exactly? Leaving school? Dropping out? When were you going to tell me this, Al? Was I just going to one day show up and you’ve not on the platform? Would I find out like the world found out about your shag?”

I bite my lip quietly, slowly shaking my head side to side. “You wouldn’t. I’d tell you first,” I say quietly. My legs weaken as I fall to the ground, sitting criss-cross in the grass. I pick at the various blades, tugging on them as I listen to my boyfriend speak.

“Right,” he says, rather annoyed. He kicks at the ground with his shoe and sighs heavily.

“I would!”

Scorpius looks like a wounded puppy with his eyes the way they were. “I-I know,” he decides to say softer. “I just-“ he balls his hands into fists, shoving them in to the pocket of his trousers. “I had an idea. We were going to be boyfriends. Seventh Years, it could be _ours_. Graduating, “

“We wouldn’t _break up_ ,” I reaffirm to him. I wouldn’t break up with Scorpius just because I wasn’t going to be at Hogwarts anymore.

“You’d probably find a boy on the road,” he says, his voice a little raw.

“I’d never. You know—“

Scorpius cuts me off. “Stop it. You know very well that you’d have this air to you when on tour. You’d be shaking your hips, doin’ those things on stage, swooning others. Boys would throw themselves at you and you’d get swept away in it. But it’s not just being in a band that’s the problem. If you don’t finish school, you’d never go back.”

I know Scorpius is trying to prove a point to me, but his imagery makes me think of someone from my Grandad’s era with swirled hair and some sequin jumpsuit. It reminds me of someone my Gran might listen to, someone who was _devious_ because they showed their bellies or something stupid.

“But I’d be in a _band_.”

“But you wouldn’t be in school. You’d forget all about Hogwarts and magic and—“His voice quivers. I shake my head, but Scorpius doesn’t see it. “You’d be traveling on the road with your lads. You’d be seeing sights and playing stupid drinking games and making a mess of things. You wouldn’t ever fall back on healing, because you’d never finish. You’d go off and skip magic. I _know_ you, Albus. You’d jump fifteen steps forward and never look back.”

“But it’s just _school_. It’s not anything cool, Scorp. I could be in a _real_ band. A _real_ rockband. Like with fans and everything!”

“But what’s going to happen if you guys don’t get that big? You’d have no back up.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “You just don’t think I can do it, do you?”

Scorpius’ eyes narrow more. “Don’t even think for one second I don’t support you. I’ve seen how the band is for you. I’m in full acceptance of you guys gallivanting all summer holidays. I know the band is good for you, but school,” Scorpius pleads.

“But I’ve never been a school boy. You _know_ that.”

“I also know that you’ve done very well compared to what you think. I’m not against your exploration. I just think maybe you should finish your last year. Besides, seventeen or not, your parents would _murder_ you for not finishing school.”

“Dad didn’t!” I protest. “How can they say I need to finish when my own father didn’t?”

Scorpius sighs, going to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Al, your father didn’t need to finish school because he was in a _war_. He’s a _war hero_. Sometimes things get comped because of certain circumstances. Just like he could by pass normal auror procedures because of you know, defeating the dark lord. Or is that a little tidbit you forgot?”

“So Dad was in a war, Dad didn’t finish school. It’s because he’s Harry freakin’ Potter. He can bypass any stupid law or rule he wants. James can make Puddlemere because he’s James freakin’ Potter. Salazar, Scorp,” I say and clutch my head in my hands. I curl my legs in to a ball.

“Albie,” Scorpius says quietly. He bends down and strokes at my hair. “Albie, I love you. You know I love you. You know I love how the band is. I just—I don’t want you to regret not finishing school. Koalabee,” Scorpius whispers to me. He crouches down lower, saying the silly pet name he’s started calling me since we started dating. “I just don’t want you to not be able to go in to healing when you want to because you skipped. Finish for me?” He says, blinking his eyes.

I bite my lip. I see his point. I know it’s my final year. I’ve got a quidditch team now, I’ve got friends at school. It’s not like it was when I was a first year, or when I was considered the Crybaby Slytherin. I sigh, giving in. I look my boyfriend in the eyes and just nod quietly.

“I guess so,” I say gloomily.

“It’s just one more school year. Then we’re done and you guys can tour all you want.” I fidget, twisting at my lock of hair. Scorpius just sighs. He bends over to kiss me on the lips, and I allow it.

“What was the gift you were going to give me?” I ask.

“Well,” Scorpius says and smiles at me. His smile is weaker, a small reminder of our previous fight. “You said how you wanted to get your eyebrow done. I thought maybe….” He grins weaker at me. “Maybe we could go together and get it done? You and me? Then we could go to that muggle store you like, with all the vinyl. I mean, if you want…” He mumbles. Then he raises his head just a little bit more. “Your band wanted me to tell you I was scheduled to go to Reading with you guys this summer. What hotel will we be staying at? I’ll ask father to book for me.”

I don’t know if Scorpius is joking or not, but his wording makes me feel better. I smile a little bit more. Stiffing back a giggle, I hold back and just smile. “We actually don’t stay in a hotel. We camp.”

“Like when we go to the quidditch world cup? Father took me one year, years ago. We stayed in a rather elaborate tent.”

“Muggle tents aren’t like that,” I explain to my boyfriend. “We have sleeping bags and we get muddy and it’s a real event.”

Scorpius looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything. I’m sure he’s willing to put up with it just because it’s a band thing. “Oh,” he says simply. “And you can handle this?” He asks me.

“The lads’ll be there. They kept me in tact last time. I’m better now. You’ll be there,” I remind him.

He feels better knowing he’ll be there. “And for clothes? What do the muggles wear?”

“T-shirts, ripped shorts, trainers. Those sorts.” His look is one of displeasure. Scorpius is adventurous, but I don’t think this whole thing even crossed his mind. Having to rough it like the muggles doesn’t seem to be something he knows a lot about. I just smile at him. “It’s fun,” I reassure him.

“Okay,” he says wearily. “Shall we get back to your party?” I look back over at the crowds of people in the Burrow yard. There’s a lot of laughter and loudness. He tugs me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head. I sigh a little and give a nod, agreeing to go back to my party.

“So was sex your present?” Cody asks loudly. Lorcan nearly punches him in the face trying to shut him up.

“No, he’s taking me to get my eyebrow done.”

“Wicked,” Lorcan agrees. “Lys is sorry you know,” Lorcan adds on. “For being an obnoxious twat.”

“It’s fine,” I mumble. “We’re fine.” I don’t look at Scorpius, but he agrees with me. The others don’t seem to notice as much, and we continue on with my festivities.

The letters to Hogwarts seem to have come even earlier this year. I resist the urge to burn the letter, forgo going to my final year. I know what I told Scorpius, what I promised him. But after three gigs in the past week, one ending in a standing ovation, I knew the band thing had to be put back on the table. I just know I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t take the band as far as I’ve hoped. After all, it was all we were dreaming for.

I’m looking at the letter for my final year of school. Nothing about it seems to have changed. My books have been updated to match the needs of seventh year classes, and aside from an additional dress robe, there isn’t much else.

Dad grabs my list from my hands and smiles warmly at me. “So this is what a seventh year list looks like,” he muses. He sighs wistfully. I don’t reply, instead weakly peering at my grades and nodding along. 

“It’s the same as any other year,” I tell him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s your last,” he adds sadly. That thought perks me up some.

“Right. Dad, the lads, Scor, and I are gonna go to Reading again this year.”

Dad crosses his arms. “Again? You want last year, Al.”

“Dad, it’s a once a year festival. We’ve _got_ to go this year. We’re a full functioning band. How can we get more fans if we don’t show off?” I grin, and Dad shakes his head.

“Okay Al, have fun. But _please_ remember to put on some sun lotion. You came back awfully red last time. Your freckles were more present than usual.”

“Don’t worry Dad. I have my boyfriend. He’s more obsessed with health than me.”

Dad shakes his head chuckling. “Al, no funny business with Scorpius.”

“ _Dad_!” my face turns even redder and I take that chance and run up the stairs. As soon as I hit the final step of my upstairs, I can hear the phone going on. It’s one of those video calls one of the lads do.

“Albie, Albie, Albie,” the voice calls to me the second I slide my finger across the screen. “We’re waiting, mate. When’s Scorpius getting in? Tell him we’ve got—“ I pause, hearing footsteps enter my room. Scorpius must have arrived right as I left my dad.

“Al!” He says rather excited. I go to cover my hand over the phone screen. “Al, I made Head Boy!” He shouts, excited. He climbs over my bed and wraps arms around my waist, kissing my neck.

“Scor,” I say, laughing a bit as I pull the phone back. “Say hi to the lads.”

His face starts turning pink and I chuckle again. “Hi,” he says, holding his hand up. “I, um, we’ll be over shortly.”

“We’re at Ry’s,” Ash replies. “No car fucking on the way over,” they tease. I roll my eyes and shut the phone off. Scorpius sits on the edge of the bed, swinging his feet back and forth.

“Albie, I’m Head Boy!” He exclaims. “Me, _Head Boy_. Just think! I wonder who my Head Girl is?” He wonders out loud.”

“Bet it’s Rose,” I mumble. He gives me a polite smile, putting his fingers under my chin and tilting my head into a kiss.

“It’s alright,” he whispers softly, brushing some hair off my forehead. He presses a kiss to it. “I’m yours.” The words send a shiver down my spine. I have been waiting forever to hear him say those words, and to have verbal confirmation, it makes all the difference.

“Yeah, I know. You think Cody is Team Captain?”

Scorpius laughs. “I know he hopes so. If so, you’re _guaranteed_ to be his favourite player.”

“You mean my broom will be,” I tease lightly. He laughs once again.

“So, when are we going to Ryan’s house?”

“We head tomorrow for Reading. Tonight, we’re going to his. You got stuff?”

“I’ve got a bag of things. Do I need any formal attire? I didn’t bring anything but I’m just wondering.”

I snort. My boyfriend is so cute. “Honestly Scorp, you’ll need trainers and a t-shirt or something. Sleeping bags. We’ve got things like sun lotion. “

“Trainers, sun lotion, t-shirt,” he repeats. “Sleeping bags? So we’re really staying in a muggle tent?”

I have to smile. The thought of my boyfriend in a rough and muddy field is an amusing one. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. Aces,” I reassure him.

Mum is the one who drives us over. Both Scorpius and I just have backpacks full of a change of clothes, sun lotion, and some pocket money. When we pull in front of Ryan’s house, Scorpius’ mouth widens. “Ryan lives _here_?” He questions. Ryan’s house was much like the manor was: large, many rooms, tons of space. The only difference being that Ryan had more technology while the Malfoys were more simple. But given the circumstances, it makes sense. After all, Ryan isn’t a wizard.

“Yeah. His dad owns that clothing line. You know,” I remind him. Mum stares at us as we go to the front door, pressing the doorbell and waiting. The girl with long blond hair tossed over her shoulder answers the door. She seems more friendly this time around.

“Albie,” she greets. “Albie’s boyfriend,” she adds with a teasing smile. “Ry, Albies here!” She yells up the large staircase. “You know where his room is.”

I dash up the stairs and take the door to my drummer’s bedroom. Scorpius tags behind, staring at every item as he walks up. He’s never been in a proper muggle house. Not like I have. He gives me wide eyes when he walks up the stairs and notices all the light switches and muggle devices. I just grin at him, going to lace my hand in his as we enter Ryan’s room.

His old girlfriend is no longer around. She didn’t come over this year. “Albie!” The lads greet as the two of us sink in to the bed of Ryan’s. “Scorpius,” they greet as well. Ryan is laying on his bed with a remote control in his hand for his video game while Ashton and Dylan are lounging on the floor on the air mattress.

“Are we really camping?” Scorpius asks. Ash snorts, and Dylan just nudges him hard.

“Yes. Don’t worry, just don’t take anything from anybody who isn’t us and you’ll be fine.”

Scorpius looks at us in a concerned manner. I inwardly hold in my snort. My boyfriend is so cute. He’s so sheltered it’s not even obnoxious, just adorable. “Drugs,” I tell Scorpius who’s eyes widen. “They’re talking about festival drugs. Some of the other people there think it’s cool to bring drugs and put them in people’s drinks and food without asking. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” I reach up to kiss him, leaving a small blush on his face. Even if it’s just the lads, public displays of kissing are still something he’s getting used to.

“That’s another thing,” Ryan adds. He pauses the video game on the screen of his telly. “No fucking. For the gods sake, _please_ don’t fuck in the same tent as me. Gay, straight, poly whatever, I don’t want to hear _any_ of you lads getting cheeky. The _only_ cheeky time that should be is a cheeky Nandos with the lads. Shit, I will literally vomit if there is fucking from you guys.”

“I take it he’s currently single?” I whisper to Dylan.

Dylan nods. “Very much so.”

Scorpius is oblivious to our conversation. He seems to be staring at the video game on the screen, trying to compute how video games work. I know he knows what telly is, but I don’t think he’s ever seen a video game so life like before. The only ones they mention in muggle studies are the really old ones. I don’t think muggle studies professors even realize how advanced muggle have gotten with their technology.

“I brought my t-shirts and trainers. Albie helped me pick them out.” There’s a snort from Ryan, but it’s small. Neither of my band mates have good fashion sense. For a father who works in the fashion industry, Ryan is just about as good as I am at picking out clothes.

“Let’s see,” Ash says, watching as Scorpius lays out his outfits. They look more coordinated than mine are, even though I told him what to wear and bring. He studies the outfits and nods. “Looks rad, Scorp. Here,” he says, throwing a red bandana at him. “You might want this. Trust me,” he says and nods. Scorpius takes the bandana and stares at it, but doesn’t say much else. Ash then tosses a green one at me, a blue to Ryan, and a purple one to Dylan. “Rest up Laddies,” he says, chucking a pillow at Ryan. “We leave early tomorrow.

It is painfully obvious to me that Scorpius has never done long muggle style car trips when we’re only an hour in to the car ride. We’ve got snacks and goodies in the truck and Scorpius is already fidgeting. I try and calm him with a kiss, but his giddy seems to take over. He’s bouncing excited, like the little nerdling he is.

“Albie, are we almost there?” He asks me. For once he’s not wearing his expensive watch his father gave him for his seventeenth.

“Scor, Ry said we’ve only been in the car for an hour. We’re not there yet,” I tell him. He presses his head into my shoulder and I stroke his hair. We both fall asleep like that, heads pressed together. No one is laughing or joking on us like Cody would on the train. Instead, they ignore it and when we finally arrive, Ashton is the first one out. He wants to try and not have camp set up duty like last year.

“Land, glorious land!” He shouts dramatically. “Off the horrid roads of Ry’s car skills. Ry, for making everyone shit their trousers, go set up camp.”

Scorpius blinks at me, and I grin. “He’s never had to work a day in his damn life.”

“Fuck, I’ve never had to build a camp before.”

Dylan rolls his eyes. “Fuck off then, Mate. I’ll do it.” He takes his purple bandana and wraps it around his long hair. After rolling up his sleeves of his t-shirt, he then lifts the poles up for the tent, making the outer cover. When he’s finished, Dylan presses a hand to his hip. “Yeah, this badass queer can build a fucking tent. M’not just a pretty face.”

Scorpius snorts, and some girls at the camp over giggle at him. I latch on to Scorpius, still uneasy around most females. Dylan waves his fingers at them and Ryan perks up, going to chat them up. He returns with a new number in his mobile phone, although he probably won’t call it.

When we wake up early the next morning, the Reading sky has clouds and some drizzle. I still have old eyeliner caked on my eyes and my piercing in my lip as Scorpius kisses me awake. “Rise and shine, Koalabee.” He kisses my nose. “Ashton has food. I don’t know what those contraptions are, some sort of pastry with icing on top.”

“Poptart,” I tell him. “They’re okay.”

“Then eat it,” Scorpius says to me gently, watching as I tear the poptart in half. I nibble on pieces as Scorpius watches carefully, then proceeds to eat my left overs. He winces as he eats the rest of the pastry. “Next time we should get a real muffin,” he expresses.

“Right,” Ash snorts. Ry nods along with him. “Dudes, they’re going on in like twenty. We’ve _got_ to go and get barrier again. Y’know the drill. Sometimes they want mediocre bands on stage and we’ve _got_ to have that be us.”

Scorpius glances at me, and I just grin at him. “The lads got me barrier last year. Front row. The band we’re seeing sometimes invites people on stage to perform with them. We’ve _got_ to have that be us,” I explain to my boyfriend. He just smiles at me and nods.

“Okay,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of my head. “Do you think you can handle it?” He asks me, not shying away from the question. The lads look over, nodding in agreement.

“We won’t let Albie do anything like pits or walls of death,” Ash explains to my boyfriend. “Nuh-uh, we want him safe and with us. No freak outs. Now come _on_ ,” Ash pleads. He wants us to go to get barricade at the show.

We end up barricade at the show. All five of us are in cut off shorts, messy t-shirts, and bandana’s tied in our hair. We’ve not even started the main portion of the concert, and I can already feel the sweat dripping down behind my ears. The noise gets louder and I glance over at Scorpius, then glance again at my bandmates. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, even Scorpius. Scorpius seems excited about my excitement. He stands nearby in a fashion that I used to dislike at shows, but respect with him. He’s standing nearby guarding me from any possible accidents that could happen.

When the lead singer of the band puts his guitar down temporarily, he chokes the mic with his hands and looks out the crowd. “We’re gonna play a little game,” he says, and the crowd cheers loudly. “How many of ya are in a band?” The crowd goes crazy, my band equally excited. “Well, let’s play band practice,” the lead singer says. “How many of you can play our songs?” Ryan is forceful in his hand waving as Ashton pushes himself up higher on the barricade. Dylan, who already towers above a majority of the crowd, makes sure his hand is present in the waving. The lead singer starts to list off one of the bands more difficult song, one our band knows by heart. We keep our hands in the air, waiting for our chance to be called. Ryan leaps up as high as he can, waving his hand in the air frantically. “You?” He calls out, looking at Ryan. “Your band?” He repeats, then smirks. “Get your ass up here!”

Scorpius beams at me, going to press a kiss as he lurches me forward in the crowd. Dylan nods over at security, letting them know that I’m a part of the band. My heart is beating so fast as I feel the whirlwind of performing. I’m naturally shy, but my stage presence kicks in and I feel myself weaken at all moments. Here is one of my _idols_ on stage, and I’m _next_ to him. I mouth a _holy shit_ to Dylan who just grins back at me. Ryan is already making his way to the drums, and Ash is eying the other’s guitar. We’re all on clouds as we’re spoken to.

“Where you from?” He asks, and I choke the mic with my hands.

“Devon,” I reply.

“You guys a band?”

“A lil’ yeah,” I say modestly. I’m blushing, I already know it. I can see Ryan staring at the drum kit, waiting for the chance to show off.

“Yeah? You think you guys know the song?”

I nod, and in minutes our band is playing a song written by the man beside me on stage. My heart is pounding and I take the moment and loosen up, taking the stage like I do in all our other performances. Soon enough, it’s my band and I, doing what we do best in our performances. It’s not the odd thousand out there, it’s just us, just Scorpius, and we’re in our element.

“You guys are sick,” he says when I hand him back his guitar. “Fucking impressive. What’s your guys’ name?”

Ryan takes no pauses and grabs the microphone. “I’m Ryan, that’s Ashton, Dylan, and over there is Albie. We’re Raging Fire,” he says, grinning. Ryan pulls out a sticker he had made. It’s the only formal merch we have at the moment. He takes the sticker and slaps it on his guitar, giving me the pic I played with, and the others, get pics as well.

“Now get the _fuck_ off my stage,” he declares, and the rest of us climb off the stage. We’re all high on the performance. There is _no_ high like being on stage, having a crowd chant your name. My heat is pounding in my chest and the thought that I have to leave this world makes my heart sick. I know what I promised my boyfriend, but after this, the punk world is getting harder and harder to leave behind.


	21. Last Days of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seventh Year. It's a start, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much!! I love you all and I hope you have a Happy Holiday season <3 <3

The day before I leave for Hogwarts I am laying on a cold table. Scorpius is holding my hand, waiting with me. We’ve already gotten our school supplies, now is the present he’s promised to give to me. My head is in a whirlwind of emotion as I lay on the cold table. There’s so much I want to do. I want to just not get on the train tomorrow. I want to just skip out and start touring. After our clip of us performing on stage went on some muggle video site, our own numbers have increased dramatically. We’re getting more fans, and more comments. People are starting to notice us, and suddenly we’re wanted in places I didn’t think knew we existed.

I had tried to reason my parents with the idea of not going back to Hogwarts for my final year, but they were as against it as my boyfriend. They knew that skipping my final year would not be well for me. It would be the opposite for me, in fact. I was going to be forced to continue with my final year, and not even the promise of making something with my band would be enough.

“You okay, Koalabee?” Scorpius whispers to me, keeping tight with his hand in mine. As promised, Scorpius has taken me to get my eyebrow done, then to some vinyl places. The piercer grins at me, noticing my lip and my dark lined eyes as my boyfriend pushes some of the hair away from my brows, the brow that will be pierced.

“Fine,” I reply back as Scorpius presses a kiss to my lips.

“Count of three,” the piercer says, and I shut my eyes. In a matter of seconds, the cold metal bar slices through my eyebrow and I’ve got a new piercing. “Looks good, kid,” he says, reaching a hand for me to get pulled up. I take the mirror and grin in to it. I finally start to look more punk-like, more like I belong in a band than in a boarding school.

We’re hand in hand in the vinyl shop, a little place next to _Smash_. Scorpius is holding tight to me when the owner of the shop walks over. He knows me. And he knows my band. We’ve played there a handful of times, enough that now we’ve grown a little fanbase there.

“Albie,” he greets. “Albie’s boyfriend,” he says, nodding at Scorpius. “I saw your performance on line. Was scrolling through and stopped and was all _I know them_ and it was you! Your band! That performance was ace. You’ve guys got a lot of talent. Have you guys thought about going on to the next level?”

Scorpius tugs my arm. I already know he doesn’t like this discussion. “Albie’s going to finish the last year of school,” Scorpius replies. I look over, and the shop owner just nods.

“Smart decision. Finish your last year. Take some vinyl with you. When you guys are ready to seriously consider recording, let me know.” He pats my shoulder, then hands Scorpius the bag of vinyls I had picked out. We go for lunch at _Smash_ and I get a burger and chips with a chocolate shake. My straw is stirring in the shake when I look at Scorpius nervously.

“I’ve been thinking…” I mumble. Scorpius puts down his own fish and chips and stares at me. “What if I _didn’t_ end up on the train tomorrow?”

“Then you’d be behind on your NEWTs,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “Albie, I know the band is important to you. I know you want to do this full time. But I also know that you sometimes get too obsessed with things and get blindsided.” He steals one of the chips off my plate. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to the band full time. You’ve got talent. You _should_ do the band full time. But after school. Ash still has to finish his what…O levels? I know you said Ryan dropped out already, but he’s got his dad’s empire to work in. Dylan you said is trying to finish his school, too, right? Continue doing as much as you can in the way it is for now. One year. We’ve got one year left. Let’s make it the best one.”

I sigh. I know Scorpius is right. I know I need to just finish my year at Hogwarts. I don’t want to, and I know it’s a bit selfish that he wants me to finish along with him. But, there isn’t much else I can do. Ash is staying in school for now, as Scor said. If parts of my band couldn’t be full time. Then it might as well be best to stay in for now. I cringe, knowing how much I’m sacrificing. But there isn’t much else I can do.

“Okay,” I agree.

Scorpius huffs and rolls his eyes, but smiles small. “It’s just one more quick year. It’s our final year. Seventh year is _great_. You’ll see,” he tells me. He steals another chip and presses a kiss to my lips. The waitress looks over, but doesn’t say anything.

“Can you believe this is the last time we’ll ever ride the train to Hogwarts?”

We’re sitting on the train in our last compartment. It’s myself, Cody Finch, Lacey Finnigan and Evy Watts. Cody is sitting in the compartment with his shiny new captain badge, proud that he’s going to be the new quidditch captain for our team this year. Lacey is staring wistfully out the window, her long hair loose.

“I miss Lori,” she announces, sighing dramatically.

I’m sitting in Scorpius’ lap as he plays with strands of my hair. “What did you guys do this summer?” He asks, running fingers through my dark strands.

“Watched her Harpies practice. You were there,” she reminds us. Mum had been asked to sit on a panel of tryouts for the new season, to which she brought myself, Lacey, and Scorpius along.

“Well I’m the captain now,” Cody says proudly. He puffs out his chest. “We’ll do even better than last year,” he exclaims dramatically. There are some snorts sent around. Everyone knows how strict Lori was, but in a way that wasn’t demeaning. She was more in to teamwork than other captains, but that didn’t take from her desire to win.

“Oh no,” Evy sighs dramatically. “You will need all the help you can get.”

“And that is why she made you co-captain,” Cody announces. Evy rolls her eyes, knowing that bit of information already. It was clear that Lori wouldn’t leave just Cody in charge of the team. She knew he would need someone to help out.

“Who’s head girl?” I ask, and Lacey lets out a slight snort.

“Who do you think? Emmie is overjoyed about her girlfriend being head girl.”

I groan, looking at Scorpius for sympathy and support. He just pats my head and kisses the top of it, causing the others to laugh lightly and smile. When Scorpius scoots me off his lap, I fall to the floor. He just laughs again in a way I’ve come to love. “Be right back later, Koalabee,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.

The others giggle at the nickname and I just blush slightly. Cody snorts too, sitting cross legged on the cushioned seat of the train. “Who is ready for seventh year?” He asks. “Can you believe our book list? I know I said care of magical creatures was easy, but look at that _list_. How am I supposed to read thirty books this year?”

“NEWT level courses are a lot larder,” Lacey says, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “Lori even said with quidditch as her focus, the courses were still rather difficult. A lot of professors even forgo written examinations and instead have end of course project. Potions is infamous for that.”

“Great,” Cody groans. “I’m taking potions and care of magical creatures. And charms.”

“Muggle studies, charms, potions, transfiguration. And why did we need dress robes?”

Lacey giggles. “We’re having a ball this year. Right before the winter holidays. No reason, just because. All seventh years have a formal and a seventh year party. It’s right after NEWTs and we go to the pitch and have a picnic and games and there will be bouncy courses and everything. Then we have graduation. How did you not know this Albus? Didn’t your brother do all this in his seventh year?”

I in turn go to pick at my fingernail. “My brother’s end of term seventh year was my second term fifth year.” Cody closes his mouth and nods, Lacey growing quiet. Evy speaks up. “He was that kid that got ill,” she says, glancing at me. “You’re not going to do that this year, are you?”

I shake my head. “Being that sick is not fun,” I tell everyone. “Besides, my focus this year is getting through my studies so I can tour with my band. I actually was contemplating not coming.”

“As your team captain, I _forbid_ you from that,” Cody replies seriously. “We cannot have our best teammate not on the team.”

“I’d leave my broom,” I add.

“Well, that’s fine, too,” he teases. It’s gotten even more well known amongst my team that Cody loves my broom perhaps more than he loves anything else. Lacey and Evy rolls their eyes but smile.

“I’m sure your boyfriend would disagree.”

“I know,” I sigh. “It was really hard to come this year. My band got on stage with this muggle band at this festival and it was _wicked_. It was so bloody awesome. Then, yesterday, Scorp took me to get my eyebrow pierced.” I pull my fringe up, showing them the new piercing.

“Did it hurt?” Cody’s eyes are gazed in wonder. “Can I touch it? Does it _hurt_?”

I shake my head and laugh. ”Not anymore.”

“You’re not going to go gallivanting off with some boy during the commons part, are you?” Cody asks, referencing what happened last year when I met my ex-boyfriend. I shake my head harder and scowl.

“You had to bring up Jake, didn’t you?”

“Jake…he’s that kid with the purple and the horrible attitude, right?”

“Right. Artsy, skips a lot, that sort of thing.”

Lacey wrinkles her nose. “Ew. He’s always been kind of gross. No offence, Albie. Scorp is _way_ better.” I bite at my lip and nod quietly in agreeance. I love Scorpius, a lot, and he knows it. But even he knows that my past relationship has impacted our own relationship. Scorpius perhaps knows more about my insecurities than I do. “Oh, I think I see the castle,” she says, tearing us away from the other conversation.

Scorpius makes it back to our cabin just long enough to unload off the train. “Sorry Love,” he apologizes. “Head boy duties. It’s so much fun,” he says, teasing me slightly and kissing me on the cheek. “Why don’t you guys head to the feast and I’ll meet you. I’ve got some Head boy duties with the first years. Love you,” he says, kissing me once again.

“Can you believe this is our final feast?” Cody says loudly. He’s got potatoes, roast, and some other sort of food. He looks at my plate and then continues to add more to his own. I just nod, picking at my own food. When I’m about to put a small spoon of potatoes in to my mouth, I’m greeted by the blond boy that is my boyfriend.

“Eat a little more, Love,” Scorpius says, grinning and taking a bite of my roast I have on the plate. He’s started sharing plates with me, knowing that I don’t eat a lot anymore. My stomach is still fucked from when I had my potion problem back in fifth year. “Then maybe a game?” He hints, indicating that he wants more alone time. I choke down the last bite of food and grin.

“Now?”

“You guys are _so_ gay,” Cody teases, grabbing at some of the pudding that was left out.

“I’ve got to take the first years to the commons, then I’ll meet you up?” He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “I love you,” he mumbles to me.

“Love you too.”

I get up from my seat, ready to go up to the dorms when I’m stopped by a tall boy with long hair. It’s once again tucked behind his ear. His twin is nowhere near in sight. “Albie,” he greets, placing hands over my eyes. “Guess,” he jokes.

“Lolly,” I say, recognizing the voice of one of my good friends.

“Sorry we didn’t sit on the train. I’ve become entranced in the latest book for sixth year. Can you _believe_ how many books we have to read? I’m taking muggle studies, astronomy, potions, herbology, and care of magical creatures. I’ve got _so_ many books I’ve got to read this year. I don’t know _why_ I need to read the books based on my great-grandfather. But it’s fascinating to read from his perspective. I’m really mad at Lys for what he did at your birthday,” he apologizes for his twin. “You and Score are okay, right?”

“Never better, Lolly.” I give him a weaken grin. “Once Scor finishes his duties for head boy, we’re going to do a puzzle together. Or a game. I don’t know which. Scor just really wanted me to finish my seventh year.”

He only smiles lopsided. “He wants what is best for you. We all do. It’s all about patterns,” he replies, pausing to sit on the stairs. He quickly removes his socks and shoes, eager to dispose of them. “I’ve been meaning to do that all day. It’s good seeing you. Oh!” he reaches in to his bag and pulls out a book. “For Scorp. It’s from my great-grandad. He wishes him well.” His eyes twinkle, knowing how Scorpius is about Newt Scamander. Anyways, I’ve got ten chapters left of my first book. Then on to the next. Bye!” he waves his hand at me, shoving his shoes in to his bag and heading to Ravenclaw tower.

Scorpius is already waiting for me when I get back to the dorm. Our beds are set up with our trunks beside them. He’s lying in bed in his pajamas, waiting. There’s a smile on his face as he waits for me to get ready. When I come back from wiping off my eyeliner, we’re together just the two of us, smushed together in his bed. It’s comforting, him and I together under his bed. No other people in the dorm seem to care, and if they do, we don’t even care to notify them. Scorpius is head boy, and we’re both seventeen. Besides, we don’t _do_ anything.

My back is pressed against his front as kisses the top of my head, going to look for a puzzle piece. “This was the cutest puzzle. I love the baby koala bears.” I scowl. Even years later I still detest my patronus. Scorpius still thinks my patronus is the cutest thing ever, but I still dislike it, even with the nickname he calls me.

“Next time we’re doing the nifflers,” I tell him, placing the nose of the mother koala in the designated slot. Oh!” I pause, getting up from the grip of my boyfriend. “Lolly gave me this. It’s for you, from his great-grandfather.

The mention that the gift was from Newt Scamander stops Scorpius in his tracks. His puzzle piece lays forgotten as he lurches forward for the gift. All proper etiquette is discarded as he rips apart the wrapping to a published journal written by Newt Scamander on his journeys across the world searching for beasts. He tears open the front cover, eyes starting to water at the personalized message. After reading it, he hugs the book close to his chest.

“This is absolutely amazing. I love it. It really makes me even more sure of my decision to research beasts. They’re just so fascinating and beautiful. Can I read you some of the chapters before bed?” With a wave of wand, the puzzle is put away and I snuggle up back in to his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and starts to read the chapters, kissing my head once again as I fall asleep.

I wake up to an empty bed, a muffin on the side table, and a note. Scorpius already has his timetable, which means that mine is next to his under the muffin. He’s got magical creatures all morning, right after head boy meetings. I’ve got muggle studies starting in about an hour, followed by an afternoon of transfiguration. We have no classes together today, and we won’t have our first class together until tomorrow afternoon, when we both have potions. He has herbology when I have charms, then he has history of magic when I’m supposed to be at quidditch practice. Luckily no one ever takes that course as NEWT level except a very few students. Currently, Scorpius says he only has four students in his class. Practice hasn’t started yet, but when it does, we’ll have practice on Mondays and Wednesdays, then matches on Saturday.

Seventh year hasn’t even started yet, and it’s already a chaotic mess.

I stuff part of the muffin in to my mouth, grabbing my bag and going towards the muggle studies classroom. All of the NEWT level courses are split between the years, as seventh year is mostly projects and thesis papers. I grab my seat in muggle studies, wishing I wasn’t in school. The more my professor talks about writing papers, the more I wish I could forgo that and instead work on my band. But not even my exposure in the muggle world will work to my advantage in muggle studies class. For our final research thesis, we have to write about a topic with co-relations with the muggle world and the impact the muggle world could have on the wizarding. I’ve known since last year what I’m writing mine on, based purely on my NEWT study of healing. The majority of the class is going to be graded on our thesis and the work, while class sessions will be used for research, working on our papers, and we’ll be talking about muggle relations and muggle artifacts. We’ve got to read the book about the woman who exiled magic for a year in her life as an experiment, as well as the book about raising squibs in the muggle world.

Our first report due next Monday is a warm up for our mini-essays we have to do throughout the class. We’re set to write about something muggle we did during our summer holiday, and then we have to present it. It’s easy for me, but I know for other students it will be harder.

Lunch is quick as I head to transfiguration. Transfiguration class for seventh year is all about implication methods and the different reasons and theories behind certain transfiguring. I remember at one point in my life I had wanted to become an animagus, but after my potion problem in fifth year, a lot of magic centric goals went out the window. By the time I leave transfiguration, my eyes are tired and I hardly make it to my bed. Scorpius plops down beside me nearly two hours later. We’re both exhausted.

“I have so many papers this year,” he replies, snuggling in to my side. “I think my hand will cramp up with the amount if essays and parchment I’ll be using this year. Dad better invest in parchment and quills, because I have a feeling I’ll be bathing in them soon.”

“Essays and practicals,” I respond. “Potions is going to require us to actually create something. It’s the only class we have together,” I say sadly. Scorpius kisses me.

“I know,” he replies, equally sad. “But it’ll be okay. I’ll be at every quidditch game, and we have our nights we’re free.”

“I know. It’s just not the same.” I bend up to kiss him, snuggling more. He hands me Hooty, tucking him in my grip.

“Yeah, but things’ll get better, Koalabee. Promise.” He kisses me one last time before we both go to sleep.


	22. Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year starts off a little rough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, Happy New Year everyone!! I love you all & thanks so much for reading. We're almost done!!

We have been in Seventh Year for nearly a month now, and things have just gotten more chaotic. On top of all our coursework, I have quidditch practice, and Scorpius not only has Head Boy meetings, but club meetings and tutoring sessions he does for the younger years. So far, Scorpius and I see each other on Tuesdays and Thursdays during potions and at the nights when he isn’t doing Head Boy duties.

The more I have to focus on just school, the more I really want to just focus on my band. I hadn’t been able to write the lads hardly at all, but Mum’s sent me a few of their letters they wrote to me. After what happened during the summer at Reading, we’ve gotten a ton more attention than we ever have. People want us to perform at their venues, want us to tour. I just wish I could be doing that instead of stuck in school.

All the school work throws me in to a blur. The weeks and days start to blur together and the only sense of rejoice is being able to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday. I am knee deep in papers and works and even my sketchbook has lay forgotten in the month of school work.

Quidditch try outs are not the same as they were when I tried out. Cody is a good coach, but according to Evy, he has a lot of organization skills to work on. The younger years who make the team include the one who tried out for keeper when I was trying out, and it doesn’t take the seventh years on the team long to realize that many of the younger years just don’t have the same desire for team comradery as Lori had imposed as captain. Evy is more interested in skills and tactics, while Cody is more interested in the personable side of quidditch.

But, despite the gap with our younger members, the team is getting better. Cody and Evy want to go out with a bang, and win a majority of our matches this season. However, with school work, all of us are swamped. I wouldn’t be surprised if members of the team dropped because of NEWTs.

One evening after practice, Cody wipes his hands on the seat of his trousers. “How the hell did Lori manage to get O’s _and_ be captain?” He asks, trailing behind Evy as she checked off some boxes on her list.

“Timetables,” is her response. “Even Albie has somewhat time management skills.”

“I have a boyfriend who thinks timetables are _neato_ ,” I correct.

Cody’s eyes wander to mine. “Do you think he’d create one for me? I’m _dying_ under all the course work.”

I snort. “He’d be delighted. He’s a right dork about those things.”

“He’s a dork about everything,” Cody teases. Evy laughs.

“He’s a laugh to be around. Such a kind hearted boy. Wicked smart. What is he doing after Hogwarts, Al?”

I bite at my lip. I don’t like talking about Scorpius’ plans so much. I want him to travel with me, but I can’t prevent him from that. I know he has to do his own thing, and me, mine, but I _just_ got him as a boyfriend. I can’t lose him. I also can’t skip out on band opportunities. I sigh.

“He wants to work with magical creatures. Research or something.”

“You guys getting a flat together?”

“I-“ I pause. “Probably not,” I respond. “My band is going to probably tour or something.”

“Oh,” is her only response.

“Shit that sounds cool,” Cody responds, using his free hand to lean it on my shoulder. I can see a hint of blond come my way and I smile. Evy looks in his direction and warms her smile at me.

“What sounds cool?” Scorpius laughs. My heart swoons. His laugh is one of my favourite sounds in the world.

“Albie’s going to tour with his band.”

Scorpius eyes me concerned. “Oh yeah?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Did he say when?” Scorpius asks, then glances at Cody.

“He said summer. After grad.”

“Oh,” Scorpius says, going to lace his fingers in to mine. He squeezes my grip as we walk back to the castle. As we reach the dormitory I’m exhausted and not even willing to go to dinner. Scorpius sits on his bed, nose in his book. His voice seems off, like he’s upset with me.

“Are you mad?” I decide to ask. No one else is around. Even if there were, they’re all used to us by now.

“About?” Scorpius puts a bookmark in his pages.

“You know, touring with the band.”

“Why would I be mad? I love your band, and you know I approve of it. The band is good for you, and the lads are your friends.”

“You just don’t seem very happy when Cody mentioned touring.”

“I’m not _not_ happy. It’s just—it’s complicated, Al.”

I frown, moving away from his bed and to mine. “Why?”

“Albus,” Scorpius replies in a little more of a strict tone. His voice reminds me of what I’d like to refer to as his head boy voice, a tone that is less playful and cheerful. Scorpius rubs at his eyes. “I’m trying to do my homework. Why don’t—why don’t you study your cards? You haven’t in a while,” he suggests, gesturing to the stupid note cards in my trunk.

My heart slumps in my chest. Scorpius’ tone reminded me of the same tone that James used to give me when he was annoyed with me, or like when Jake used to tell me to stop doing something I couldn’t help. I pull myself away from my boyfriend and pick up the stupid index cards.

I hate them. They’re silly and childish and my therapist makes me use them. He says it has improved my social awareness and controls my temperaments. I turn away from Scorpius and focus instead on the childish pictures on the laminated cards. They’re designed for stupid four year olds but I’m still insisted I use them. Sometimes, when I start to get a little more off track than I’ve been, Scorpius will help me with the studying. But this time, he doesn’t seem to want to help. He just wants me to go away.

I get that he’s studying, but while I study my cards I get to the one with the frustration face and my eyes start to blur. In an annoyed heap, I fling the cards back in to my trunk. I never thought I’d become too annoying for Scorpius of all people, but here I am. Instead of studying I fling the covers over my head and shove my toy owl under my grip.

“Albie, Albie, wake up,” the voice whispers to me. I blink my eyes open to see Scorpius gently shaking me. Remembering that I’m upset with him, I turn to the side, ignoring my boyfriend. It doesn’t work as Scorpius kisses me awake. “Wakey wakey, Koalabee,” he says lightly, kissing the side of my head.

I grumble, sitting up. “What?”

Scorpius cocks his head to the side, still smiling. “You’re so adorable with hair flat on your head like that. Like one side is whoosh, and the other is like _splat_ ,” he tells me, gesturing the sound effects with his hands.

“Are you sure?” I pull my legs to my chest.

Scorpius’ tilted smile fades in to a frown. “What do you mean?” He asks confused. “Of course you are. Why did someone—did someone say something?” He asks, getting rather worried.

“Not really.”

Scorpius crawls to my bed, going to place his fingers under my chin. In small gentle motions, he tilts my chin up. “You’ve been crying. Why have you been crying?”

“Nothing,” I mumble.

“Albie,” he says concerned. He becomes more gentle as he talks to me. “Koalabee,” he whispers. “Sweetheart,” he adds softer. “You can tell me.”

I tuck my hands into my armpits, keeping them crossed. “I might get too annoying.” My voice is bitter, and I try to make the words sting, but they come out hurt.

“Who said? —Oh.” His eyes grow even more soft. He crawls closer to me, going to gently sit behind me. “Yesterday. I didn’t—I wasn’t— “Scorpius searches for his words. “The class work made me stressed. Classwork and head boy duties. I didn’t mean _you_ I’m just—I’m sorry,” he apologizes sadly. He wraps arms around me, but I shrug them off and scoot away.

“I don’t want to be too annoying for you,” I reply, the words trying to sound harsh but just coming out hurt again.

“You’re not,” Scorpius reassures me. You’re not _at all_. You’ll never be. I _promise_.” He scoots closer to me, going to press a kiss to me. “Albus, I _love_ you. School’s just—seventh year is hard. Head Boy is hard. I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I didn’t think I’d get stressed. I’m sorry. That was no excuse, I’m really sorry.”

“I-“ I don’t say anything, and instead scoot back closer to him. I press my back against his front and he smiles softer at me.

“Here, let me,” he says quietly, gently going to pick up a hair brush I had lying around the room. He kisses the top of my head before starting to hum a song his mother used to sing to him. It’s in German, but I don’t really care the language as he sings. German is not the most romantic sounding language, especially for soft songs. But the way he sings each word is heaven to my ears.

I lay against his front as he gently pulls through the dark strands, my tears mixed in the tangles of my fringe. He quietly brushes around my piercings and combs my hair back from my face. It’s soothing, even if having my hair brushed has never been a soothing method.

“I love you,” he whispers again in to my ear. “Don’t ever forget that.”

I turn and let my lips lock with his.

The worst part of seventh year isn’t all the course work. It isn’t being told about the stress of NEWTs. I haven’t even gotten that far yet with most of my studies. Most of my work is in progress, and in many of my courses the work is getting better. No, by far the worst part of seventh year is the Yule Ball.

We’ve been taking a break from practice today on the pitch, as the others start cooing over the Yule Ball that’s coming up soon. It started as a tradition sometime when Teddy was in school. It was a sort of special thing just for seventh years, and a way of letting loose, so to speak. That and the seventh year party, were supposed to be highlights of the school year.

For social butterflies, the ball was the chance to show off. For myself, it was the very opposite. My boyfriend however, found the idea to be _exciting_. Although, to be fair, he said the same thing about the career of magical sanitation engineering.

The seventh years of the team were chatting about the ball, excited about the dance and the upcoming end of term. “Are you and Scor going, Al?” Evy asks. She brushes a hand through her hair. For once, she’s relaxing some at the topic.

“I wish Lori could go,” Lacey sighs. “Emmie gets to bring _her_ girlfriend. I can’t bring mine. So unfair,” she huffs, turning to Evy. “Could we go? Not as _girlfriends_ but, you know.”

Evy laughs. “Yeah, Lace, we can. Code, you taking anybody?”

“Al’s broom,” Lacey jokes, giggling. “Oh, Albie, are you and Scorpius going to match?”

“I…don’t know if we’re going,” I say quietly. All three of them glance at me.

“Of course you’re going,” Cody snorts. “Scorpius has been making detailed outlines about it. Why would you _not_ go?”

“Cody,” Evy hisses, knocking the boy in the arm. “Merlin’s beard, are you always so ignorant? Large gatherings aren’t really Al’s _thing_ ,” She explains, as if everyone forgot. Cody’s face pales as he remembers and then shrugs.

“Sorry Al.”

I shrug. “S’okay. I just—it’s not really my thing. Dances, I mean.” Lacey pats my shoulder and just nods sympathetically.

“Oh,” Lacey replies, nodding quietly as she looks off to the horizon. In the horizon I see blond again, indicating that my boyfriend is coming down the pitch. He’s got the biggest smile on his face.

“Albie,” he greets me, running towards me. His face is split in two with his grin. He picks me up a bit and kisses my forehead. “I’ve got to show you what Dad sent. They’re for the ball!” He’s smiling bigger as he links hands with mine.

Scorpius grips at my hand, our fingers laced. He’s bouncing with excitement as we go back to the dorms. The others are following behind, the rest of the seventh years on the team chatting about the ball. I’m the only one who doesn’t seem excited, but that still isn’t anything new.

We’re in the common rooms when Scorpius brings out the package. Lacey is sitting on the couch next to Cody and Evy, urging Scorpius to show off what he’s received. “Dad got it for you and I, Albie.” His voice is one of excitement, eagerness. I could never get super excited about a school function. Not in the same way my boyfriend can. “It’s top of the line hair potion. It’s French,” he expresses, causing the others to laugh lightly.

“Can you even _tame_ that mess?” Cody teases. I put my hand to my hair defensively.

“With work,” Scorpius teases. He runs a hand through my hair, ruffling it around.

“Are you going to wear your eyeliner, Al?” Lacey asks. Evy and Cody perk up at the mention of that.

“I haven’t seen him without eyeliner since like, fifth year. Or a piercing.”

I squirm nervously and Scorpius catches my anxiety about the situation. He presses a gentle hand on my back, urging me to go sit in his lap. I follow through, going to sit on his lap and not say anything. With gentle motions, Scorpius strokes my fringe, gently pushing the dark locks to the side.

“Albie?” Scorpius whispers to me. “Do you want to go lay down?”

I nod my head quietly, the others not saying anything. Scorpius and I stand up, going to the dorm room. Cody giggles as Scorpius and I walk away hand in hand. I can hear him whisper loudly to Evy. “They’re going to fuck,” he says, then lets out an _oof_ as he is nudged hard.

We’re sitting on his bed, his bed neatly made and mine a little less neat. The curtains are closed around us as Scorpius rubs his hand over the bedding. “Koalabee,” he says gently. “Are you okay? Or are you tired?” Scorpius’ words are gentle, soft.

“A little,” I mumble out, going to grab his toy elephant, Elma from where it sits next to Hooty. I go to tug Elma to my chest, similar to how I would with Hooty. “Annoyed,” I mumble out. “Dance.”

Scorpius’ eyes soften. “Is the Ball too overwhelming? I thought after Reading you’d be a bit better…Albie,” he whispers.

“I can’t dance,” I confess to him. “And there’ll be dancing. I’ll make a fool.”

A little smile forms on the lips of my boyfriend. “Is that all? I can teach you. Mum was very adamant about me learning dance. She did ballet. I did a bit, but not a whole lot. Come on,” he whispers. He pulls me up to my feet, placing my hands on his shoulders, as we begin to sway. “Keep your chin and eyes up. I’ll lead, like this: one, two, three,” he hums to me, the same hum being the song he sang when brushing my hair. He spins us around the dormitory, laughing lightly as the two of us spin in our socks.

In the world where we’re dancing, it’s just the two of us. It’s him and I, and there’s nothing that can intrude. He ends up spinning me out and laughing as I slip to the bed. He bounces on top of the bed beside me, going to press on top of me. He presses kisses up and down my neck, settling on one final kiss to my lips.

“Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Scorpius asks, smiling in to the kisses as he presses more. “Please?”

I smile in to the kisses. “Sure.”


	23. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the seventh year yule ball. Albus is feeling anxious about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the end! But I hope you all are enjoying the ride! <3

The Yule Ball is a mistake; I think to myself as I’m standing in my dorm in just a pair of boxers. My eyes haven’t been lined in eyeliner, my piercings aren’t in, and my hair has dried in a way that makes it fwoosh more than normal. My robe sits on my bed and I _hate_ the thing with a passion. I know I promised Scorpius, but I hate the robes. I’ve always hated dress robes, even when I was a young child. Every formal wizarding event I’ve ever had to attend was in one of these things, Mum fighting myself and James about wearing robes, chasing after me with a comb and chasing after James to keep the remains from his pockets.

Scorpius comes over and presses a kiss to my shoulder blade, then kisses up to my neck, then finally my lips. He looks stunning. He’s not even dressed yet, but his blond hair is combed back from his face, a few pieces in his eyes. He already has on the expensive watch his father gave him for his seventeenth, and his nails are freshly coated with clear. He’s not even dressed and he looks put together.

I’m not dressed and I look a wreck. Scorpius doesn’t seem to think so as he grabs at my wrist, bending up to kiss my cheek. “You look gorgeous,” he whispers in to my ear, and my face turns redder. “Can I do your hair?” He asks, grabbing the hairbrush from the side table. I don’t say anything as he grabs the brush and pulls my hair back and coiffed into something smart looking. He adds on the expensive hair potion and then disappears as I put on the rest of my outfit. My hair feels stiff, tamed beyond my normal standards.

I nervously add on my eyeliner, keeping my piercings in for comfort level. Scorpius had convinced me to remove the black nail polish and instead put on a dark green to match my robe. Mum seems to buy just like she shops for Dad: green to match my eyes. It irks me how she picks out the coloured robes. I squint in the mirror as I add in my eyebrow piercing, carefully making sure to not stab my eyes.

Scorpius emerges first, and he looks absolutely _stunning_. His robes are a blue colour, tailored to fit his body in ways I could only _hope_ to see. His hair is smartly coiffed, pieces falling in his eyes artistically. He looks like he stepped off a wizarding fashion magazine.

“Scorpion King,” I whisper, my voice falling and cheeks reddening.

“Koalabee,” Scorpius whispers to me. His eyes fall over my outfit, taking in every wardrobe change I’ve made since he and I parted ways to dress. My robes are a dark green, in contrast to his blue. My piercings glimmer under the lights of the dorm, and Scorpius grabs with perfectly manicured hands my own, lacing them together. “You look _wow_ ,” he whispers to me, mouth a gape. “Even more beautiful than I could imagine.”

With our hands laced we walk down to the Great Hall where the dance is happening. It’s guarded strictly for seventh years and their guests, a professor checking off the names as we enter. I see that the chaperone is none other than my Uncle Neville, and I find my cheeks redden when he sees me.

“Albus Potter,” he teases. “Don’t you clean up nice. Picture?” He asks, not taking no for an answer and taking the picture of myself and Scorpius.

“Woah, woah, _woah_ ,” Cody shouts. He’s in a circle with Evy and Lacey, her twin attached to the grip of my cousin. “Look at _you_ ,” he shouts at Scorpius and I. There are some wolf whistles to myself and my boyfriend, eyes raking up and down our bodies for what’re wearing. My heart is pounding in my chest, but my friends are trying to help me not get overwhelmed. Scorpius squeezes my hand gently.

“Look at _you,”_ Scorpius corrects Cody. He’s smiling as he holds on to my hand. Cody’s robe is a plum colour, hair windswept to the side. It’s a little tamer than normal, him wearing it like he just stepped off the pitch, but neater. “You combed your hair,” he teases. “And _Rose_ ,” he squeaks.

I squeeze tighter to Scorpius’ hand as he looks at my cousin. Her dress is a yellow colour, hair done in a fancy style that I don’t even _get_ how girls do. Her girlfriends is a red colour, the dress cut with sparkles on the front. Her hair is long and pinned to the side, Lacey’s hair long and loose, her dress pink while Evy’s is a brighter purple. All four girls are wearing heels, with a clutch in their hand.

“You look nice,” Scorpius compliments, face reddening.

“So do you,” She responds back with a nod, eyes gleaming at me dressing up. “Looks like you were finally able to tame the beast,” she teases. I scowl, squeezing Scorpius’ hand harder. He chuckles, taking in the compliment. “Oh, I did!” He says loudly, puffin out his chest in pride.

“That’s not all he tamed,” Cody adds, and the girls minus Evy snicker. Rose wrinkles her nose.

“Are you and Lor still a thing, Lace?” Emmie Thomas-Finnigan asks her twin.

“Do you even have to _ask_?” Evy laughs. “If Lori could come, do you think _I’d_ be her date? Obviously not. Lori wasn’t able to make it. So we agreed to stag together. And Cody well…obviously, he has a face only a mother could love. Correction, _his_ mother,” she teases.

“Hey!” he’s laughing, however.

“Oh!” Emmie squeals. “Rosie, this is _our_ song! Let’s dance!” She tugs my cousin to the dance floor, Rose squealing out an _Amelia!_ Loudly as she’s spun.

“It’s their song,” Lacey says, standing back. She steps back, going to the punch table. “It’s not even spiked, Ev,” she says, taking a sip and grimacing at the drink.

“After party,” Cody says and smirks. He puts the watered down punch on the table, slamming it when he hears a song come on. None of the music is my taste, the music being far from the music they had at my Mum’s ball. “Oh!” he’s loud in his words. His shouting is heard throughout the party. “This is _my_ shit!” He runs to the floor and starts to dance, people laughing but not making fun.

“He shit himself,” Evy taunts, smirking as she puts the cup to her lips.

“You two, go dance,” Lacey cries, pushing me and Scorpius to the floor as soon as a slow song comes on. My heart pounds more in my chest. All of that is melted away when Scorpius takes my hand and leads me around on the floor. His eyes are in mine and I feel myself melt away in his grip. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us, like it was meant to be. There’s no one else on the dance floor, and my fear of being laughed at melts away with all other fears. I keep my arms on him, swaying gently to the music and occasionally doing the dance moves we practiced in the dorm. His lips are warm when he kisses me and everything about this feels right. This makes seventh year feel right. We’re together, as we’re supposed to be.

Eventually the dance dwindles down and people are escaping to their dorms. Emmie and Rose have already left, and I dread any sort of questions Uncle Ron may ask me about it during our next holiday gathering.

There’s a tap on my shoulder and I peer over at Evy and Lacey. “We’re going to the commons. Found some firewhiskey,” she says, grinning at me and at Scorpius. I look around on the floor and there’s not many left. Most of the couples are starting to retreat to their dorms, and I look at Scorpius who nods in my direction.

We’re all bunched in a tight circle on the floor. The girls have kicked their shoes off, while Scorpius’ and I bow ties are half haphazardly around our necks. A bottle of firewhiskey sits in the center and we’re all laughing and telling jokes. Even Scorpius, who knows alcohol isn’t permitted in dorms is relaxed tonight.

“Never have I ever…had sex with a guy,” Lacey starts off. I’m the only one that drinks and the girls howl with laughter.

“You two haven’t?” He asks Scorpius, appalled that the blond wasn’t drinking.

I smirk. “Scorpius is a gentleman who doesn’t tell.”

“So you _have_?” Scorpius presses his lips tighter, not answering.

“Okay, okay, _my_ turn.” I shoot a look at Lacey. “Never have I ever…. dated a quidditch player.” Scorpius looks at me, but sighs, taking a sip. Lacey takes one, as does Evy and even Cody.

Cody raises a brow at me, but I shake my head. “Jake was _not_ an organized sport guy.”

“That _sixth year?_ ” Lacey squeals in disgust. “You _fucked him_?”

I slowly raise my hand up, face beat red. “Guilty…” I whisper.

“Okay, _I’ll_ go,” Scorpius cuts me off. He doesn’t like talking about Jake, or even being reminded about the dark haired boy. “Never have I ever received less than an _exceed expectations_ on my report card.” Everyone groans and takes a sip, laughing at Scorpius and his good grades.

“Me! Never have I been a prefect.” Scorpius rolls his eyes and takes a sip.

“Never have I looked like my father,” Evy says, and Scorpius and I groan and take shots.

The game goes on until it fades in to kissing, which then fades in to some game where my robe is off, Scorpius’ shirt is open, and we’re lying on top of each other on the couch in the commons. The night fades in to day as the light from the lake streams in to the room. I, along with the other intoxicated seventh years all groan and moan, pushing at the streams of light trying to force it away. Scorpius is underneath me, being the first to wake up. Even hungover he’s an early riser.

“Oh…” he mumbles, groaning. “Albie…”

I roll off my boyfriend, being jerked awake when I hear a thud from the floor. Cody had fallen off the couch to the hard floor, drool seeping from his lips. “Shit, it’s morning,” I groan, rubbing at my hair that’s giantly knotted from the potion and the sleep.

“Come on,” Scorpius urges me. He reappears from the dorms, pajama bottoms and t-shirts in hand. “Let’s go to the Head Boy bathrooms.” He holds my wrist, walking me to the bathroom. On top of his pile are my glasses, which just makes me groan. I still hate them. “Let’s bubble bath together,” he tells me, pulling me towards the large spacious bathroom.

The bathroom is rather large, with tile and a large spacious bathtub that looks like a swimming pool. There’s more than enough room for myself and for Scorpius, as well as the whole rest of Slytherin house.

“Come on,” he urges me softly, letting me strip of my clothing and join him to the warm bath. It’s just the two of us in the whole bathroom, which is quiet and peaceful. “Can I wash your hair?” He asks me softer.

I don’t protest. My hair is currently knotted in all sorts of ways up to the root of my hair. Scorpius just laughs lightly, the two of us standing in the warm water. He takes his own fancy shampoo and lathers it into my hair, pressing a kiss into my wet back, then going to wash more. It’s a soothing motion, him rubbing my hair and slowly massaging my scalp. It’s so comforting, I can’t help but let out a small moan. Scorpius giggles.

I grin back at him, quietly splashing him with my soapy water. Scorpius laughs, going to wash out the potion from his own hair. He dips down in the water to add some bubbles to his chin and above his lip. I can’t help but snort; my boyfriend is a dork. He dips back under the water to rinse his hair and body clean, getting out. I bite hard on my lip to protect myself from any sort of erection I’d be getting from my naked boyfriend.

Scorpius only hums to himself as he puts his robe on, tightening he belt of the plush white robe. He turns around to me and smiles. “You ready Al…bus?” His voice turns higher in pitch and he bites his own lip to keep from blushing. “Oh,” he whispers. “Um. Your clothes are over there. I’ve got to take a wee,” he decides.

I force myself to think of something, _anything_ to forgo the imagery of Scorpius’ bare end. I don’t want to cave in to the idea, even though I’m sure it’d perfectly allowed to get off to your own boyfriend. I sink further in to the water, coming up to the surface once more. Scorpius has already left to wee, and I use that window as my opportunity to escape.

My hair is drying fluffy and wayward, while my face is free of piercings and eyeliner. I’m in my pajama bottoms and old t-shirt when Scorpius finally makes his way back out to me. My glasses are messily perched on my face, something that makes Scorpius smile.

“You’re so handsome Albie,” he says to me, wrapping arms around my waist and pressing a chaste kiss to me. “All the time.”

“So are you.”

He laughs, twirling at a piece of my hair. “It’s past noon. Are you thinkin’ what I am?” His eyes are twinkling.

“Oh no, Malfoy!” My smile curves in to a grin upon seeing that twinkle. Scorpius and I started playing board games my fifth year when I was rather ill. I needed something to do when I couldn’t leave my dorm. Now, the games have become more intense with betting and consequences involved for the other who loses. Usually it’s letting the winner pick a muggle film to watch if we’re at my house. At school, it’s usually a little more creative. However, since we’re so close to the holidays, it’s become muggle films on the line again.

“Winner picks the film!” He shouts, scampering from the spot where he was standing. I laugh, chasing him down the hall to our dormitory. I hop on to my own bed, him going to join me. “What do you want to play?” He asks. “Chess? Gobstones, another muggle game?”

“Chess,” I decide. We’re playing for winner gets to pick the muggle film, and I don’t want to watch whatever Scorpius picks out. He has started to like the Disney films with the princesses and the princes, all the sorts I’ve never been partial too. Right now he’s on a Cinderalla kick, or something along those lines. If I win, he’s watching _A Bugs Life_ , since it’s one of my personal favourites.

“Okay Blondie,” I tease, watching my boyfriend move his piece. “I’ve got almost all your men and –“

“Check. Mate.” Scorpius smirks at me.

“Oh no.”

“We can rematch. But rematch means I get an additional film to add. I’ll have to ask Lily for another recommendation.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll accept defeat. Only…”

“Only what?”

“If you give me a kiss.”

Scorpius laughs, going to press a kiss to my mouth.

“Draco needs food, Al,” Scorpius announces one Saturday before our monthly trip to Hogsmeade. My ferret had been getting low on food, and thus the impromptu needing of shopping became errands I desperately had to do. It was the last Hogsmeade trip before winter hols started, which meant a lot more to Scorpius than to me.

“We need to stop into the shop and get some before we head back to yours for the holidays. Poor guy, I don’t think he could wait until the hols.” Scorpius reaches into the cage, going to stroke the soft fur of the little ferret. He runs his fingers up and down the back, as the creature gives a little squirm. Scorpius gently reaches to cover my pet’s ears. “I’m also getting him a Christmas present this year. Do you think he’d like a nice ball to play with? What about a nice blanket?” Scorpius glances at the bottom of the ferret cage, removing his hands from the ears.

“He doesn’t understand what you’re saying,” I tell my boyfriend with a smile. “You can say words around him and he doesn’t understand. See, watch. _Gift_ ,” I say, and the ferret tilts his head.

“He _does_ ,” Scorpius disagrees. “Now you owe me.”

“Owe you _what_?” A playful smirk arrives on my face. I lean up to kiss Scorpius and he backs down from my declaration of owning him something.

“I’m good,” Scorpius says, and runs his hand through his hair. “So Hogsmeade?” Scorpius asks, and links hands with mine.

I nod, looping my scarf around itself and linking hands with Scorpius. I stay close in proximity, still hating the crowd of Hogsmeade. I still can’t tolerate any sort of crowd, and it’s more annoying than cute, which is something Scorpius seems to disagree with. Lorcan too, doesn’t find the act obnoxious, nor do my band or teammates. I stop in the middle of the pathway when Scorpius reaches his gloved hand out of mine and instead goes to push my fringe around messily.

“You really need to get some tangle potion. Or a trim,” Scorpius teases, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I lightly bat away at his hand. “I’ll get some on the way back.” But my words are lost on Scorpius as he hurries into a pet shop. What starts off as a quick trip to get pet foot for my ferret ends up being a rescue mission with none other than Tilly the purple pygmy puff in his grip when we leave. He periodically gives the creature cuddles in between walking with me, and letting the pet nestle on him.

“Now where too?”

“You could always get that tangle potion or a trim,” he teases.

“No trim.” I wince at the thought. It took me over a year to get my hair back to how I like it, and I’ll be damned if some hairdresser aside from Teddy messes up my hair. “Tangle potion it is then,” I mumble, ducking in to a store I never normally step foot in. It’s all Scorpius’ idea for product, still in awe how well his father’s potion tamed my hair for the Yule Ball.

“Two drops for even the mangiest of manes,” the shop keeper says, grinning at me. I wince at the smell, my allergies already starting to act up from the flower scents. I duck back out the store with Scorpius beside me. He has the bottle in the bag and frowns.

“Sorry Koalabee,” he whispers to me, handing over my green inhaler for me to use.

“You carry that thing around?” I ask, then take the puffs required.

He looks at me skeptical. “Of course I do. I want you safe,” he whispers to me, linking hands. He looks behind his shoulder and smiles softly at me. “Koalabee, let’s go there.” I follow his gaze and line of sight to where he was pointing. It was Puddifoots, a place we only went for special occasions. We haven’t been there for a proper date in ages.

“Well, it’s still your anniversary after all. I know you don’t like to remember, but.” Scorpius looks at me, remembering the pain from two years ago. “We should have cocoa then watch the lights.”

We take our seats at the table. In two years so much has happened. I can’ help but think where I was two years ago, and where I’ll be in another two years. The band pops in to my mind again, and I can’t help but want so badly to be with them. I want so badly to be up on that stage, performing. I know I promised to get through the year, but even that is starting to feel like too long to wait.

Scorpius places his hands on top of mine concerned. “Is everything alright, Albie?” Scorpius asks quietly. He makes a quiet order of two cocoas, adding on some finger sandwiches and the little tarts I like. “Did something happen in the shop?”

“You don’t think I’ve gone mad, do you?”

Scorpius shakes his head. “Of course not. Why’ve you think you’ve gone mad? Somebody didn’t say something, did they?”

“The chance of a band making it is very slim. The odds are against us. But two of my immediate family have been quidditch players professionally, and that’s almost as hard to get professionally as a music career. I’m not going to be able to make it playing quidditch; I know that. I don’t want too, anyways. But is it crazy to want my band to make it? Should I give it that chance? Or should I follow everyone’s advice and just keep it as a hobby and do that healing program and just, you know.”

“Do what everyone wants you to do,” Scorpius finishes for me. He nods sympathetically at me, watching as I take little bites of my food.

“Everyone thinks that me studying healing means that the band thing is _out of my system_. We’ve got an EP going, but that’s about it. People think I’m crazy about wanting to go on to the next level. People are _appalled_ that I’m putting healing second to music. But no one deemed it crazy that James went straight to quidditch.”

Scorpius bites down on the sandwich and takes a sip of his cocoa. He dabs at his lips with the cloth napkin and nods in understanding. “Believe it or not, the thought that I want to go into magical creatures doesn’t put ease into people’s minds. They think I should stick to normal healing. But it’s not that I don’t like healing; I’m sick of hospitals. I’m sick of being there, and watching people. I’d rather help animals. They can’t help themselves. I’d rather learn about them and see them in their natural world. I want to see more than just the textbook pictures.” Scorpius nibbles on a tart and then dabs at his mouth again. “James could land an injury and be out of quidditch in an instant. Anything can happen. I could be trampled to death by wild creatures. A dragon could flame me to a crisp. You could break your arm and never play guitar again. There are uncertainties. You could travel and not make a dime, or be the next big thing. But I’ve seen you play, Albie. Your hearts in it. Your heart is _poured_ into music. I’ve seen you play. I’ve never seen you that happy before. It’s this energy you get on stage that’s like no other. I want people to see that. I want them to see _you_. Not Albus Potter, but _Albie_. If you’re asking me, you should do it. Healings stable, but this chance isn’t forever.”

“You didn’t want me to drop out. You _forced_ me into completing seventh year.”

Scorpius blushed. “I’m a bit selfish, I suppose. I didn’t want to spend my final year without my boyfriend. I’ve liked being able to finally date you and be in the same location.”

“I’ve liked that too. But I guess, I mean, you really think I should try?”

“Why not? Besides, if you have something stable to fall back on, it’s not like you can’t go back to that. Healing won’t disappear. Finish school, get your NEWTs for healing. Then take some time off and do the band thing. Plenty of kids take gap years. Why is this any different?”

“But what would you do?”

Scorpius stays quiet, looking at his napkin in his lap. He then dabs at the corner of his mouth and looks uncertain at his next words. My heart pulses at his next words. I want him to come with me, but I can’t hold him back forever. If he wants to go without me, I have to just accept it. I look at the napkin, then at his purple puff who is nested in his grip.

“I’d travel along, if you don’t mind. You can do the music, and I can research animals. There’s no formality to what I’d be doing, anyways. I’d be researching magical beasts. Otherwise I’d probably have to go directly into something ministry related with beasts and I just don’t want a desk job. I want to see history in action.”

I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Scorpius wanted to stay with me, _travel_ with me. The idea of my band and my boyfriend all cramped together like at Reading warms me. I can’t help my smile growing.

“I’d like that,” I reply. Scorpius smiles back, bigger, glad I’ve accepted his request.

“Oh! “Oh, the lights are starting to come on. We should go see.” His eyes grow wider in excitement. He always loves the lights, even more than I did as a child. But I let my boyfriend watch, loving how happy this event makes him. I take his hand and let him drag me to each of the windows with the holiday lights. My heart soars when he holds my hand. It feels good knowing we’ve got more than school to look forward too. We’re not one of those couples doomed to break up after Hogwarts. “Oh, Albie, look, it’s your favourite,” he coos to me, putting me in front of the window with the train out front. It’s a miniature replica of the Hogwarts Express, with fake trees and snow on the ground around the tracks. I’ve always loved trains, even when I was a young child. He bends down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Oh! And I haven’t forgotten. Here,” Scorpius says, gushing as he holds out an unwrapped box of chocolates. It’s different compared to the sweets that Scorpius bought last year. This time, they’re fancier than chocolate frogs or pepper imps. “Happy Birthday, Love,” Scorpius whispers to me, breath hanging in the air. He leans down to kiss me, an excited vibration coming from his pocket. “Tilly wishes you a Happy Birthday, too.” Scorpius holds the puff up who licks at my cheek.

The snow starts to fall around us as I hug closer to my boyfriend. Some couples may only have Hogwarts; we have forever.


	24. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter Holiday. The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO SO much. We're getting closer to the end, but fear not, there will be more <3

I don’t know what I’m the most excited for this holiday season: Scorpius spending the holidays with my family, or doing gigs with my band. Both were equally exciting to me, and I nearly squirm out of Scorpius’ grip when we’ve arrived on the platform. He laughs lightly at me, going to kiss my lips as I disconnect from him. “So I’ll see you at the Burrow then?” He asks me.

I laugh lightly as I kiss my boyfriend goodbye once again. I know I’ll see him in just a few days at my Gran’s, but even that seems like too far. Luckily, I have distractions, and I know most of my family aren’t very fond of this distraction.

Instead of my normal post train ride kip, I instead feel myself get energized by my bandmates coming over. We’re long overdue for a practice, and not being able to do so when I’m at school, kills me. We’re crammed in the basement of my house this time, all our equipment down plugged in and ready for practice. Since turning seventeen, I no longer have the trace on me and can do all the proper spells and charms to make muggle music equipment not be as much a problem with magic. There are still some remains that can’t be tamed, but otherwise, nothing suspicious.

“We’ve got four gigs lined up,” Ash says, placing his guitar down on the stand. We’re all sweating from practice and we all know that the holidays will make it nearly impossible for us to rehearse after our gigs. Once we get in to the holiday swing, our families will force us to make them the priority instead of the band.

“Cool when?”

Ash ignores my question. “If all goes well, we could really get a shot at this thing. Like, tour an’ all. If we do well on our gig at New Years,” Ash leads us on. “Just imagine next year.” My heart yearns for the idea of performing for a career. Being on stage is becoming more of my element than anything school related.

“Anyways, what’s everyone doing for the Hols?” Dylan asks. He tucks his pick behind his ear. “Mum an’ I are doing the usual.”

“My Grams is coming. She’s so posh it’s unreal. Nani is coming too,” Ryan adds. “All at our house. No Australia this year.” A frown etches onto his face. “Cold England verses sunny Australia, I’d rather the second.”

“Grans,” I reply. “I will always go over there. Dad will never not let any one of us skip out on going.” I roll my eyes and fold my arms. “At least Scorp can come.”

“Ooooh,” Ash teases with a cooing voice. “Sounds fancy. Are the two of you going to—“ He wags his brows and I can feel my cheeks redden.

“At _my_ grandmothers? Fuck to the no. If I do _anything_ she would hex me so far in to the past I’d meet my dad’s parents.” Again, I silently add, but that’s just for me and Scorpius to get. Fourth year is something that belongs strictly to us, and I can’t tell my muggle friends about the life we’ve been brought up in.

There’s a chime of the clock and a call from my mum instructing every one of the time. It’s time for the holiday festivities to begin, the first being a trip to the Scamanders for a dinner before we go to the Burrow Christmas Day. It’s tradition; we always go to the Burrow after opening our family gifts, and what used to be our gifts from Father Christmas. Teddy too, would also join us for gifts before the holiday feast. This year the only modification is that James is going to be arriving late. His team had something he had to do, some sort of charity event or something, something that means that he will be late. But either way, it’s an event I can’t even try to get out of. This year, I can’t even get out of going to the Scamanders.

This year is better than last year. There’s no stupid teases from the twins, and Lorcan seems to be entranced in all of his school readings. He tells me he wants to go in to some sort of research and psychology. He likes studying people and their habits, likes knowing the patterns. He says Lysander is going to follow straight in to writing like their great-grandfather.

“How is Lys going to be doing _that_?” I ask, twirling the toy bowtruckle that sits on Lorcan’s bed. His feet are bare like normal, and his hair is tied off in the back of his head in a knot.

“Writing, divination, fuck if I know. Lys is being an arse again. Pretentious prat.” He sips on the herbal tea he has in an old sippy cup. “Now he’s been telling Mum that she’s being _too_ mainstream with her wardrobe choices and her more recent haircut. Mum decides to cut the nargles out her hair and now she’s _conforming_?” He snorts. “And Dad, he’s being a _conformist_ because he’s decided he doesn’t want to go on his latest trip to the Amazons, and instead wants to go to New York to visit our great aunt Queenie. I’ve heard the word conform so many times in the last day and a half that it’s lost meaning. _They’re_ the one with that stupid haircut that makes people think of them as more than a boy.” Lorcan shakes his head and sips harder on the old cup. He brings it to his mouth and sucks harder, the faded pixies on the cup forever stoned in time with a freezing charm.

I twist at the bowtruckle and turn the toy towards Lorcan. “Remember how you said your mum thought Lys was going to be a girl at first?”

Lorcan raises an eyebrow, lips removing from the cup. “Yeah?”

“She got one.”

Lorcan shakes his head, but there’s a smile hiding from behind his cup. “Albie, Lysander is _genderfluid_. A prat, too, but not _completely a girl_ , and I quote.” However, he still has a brief smile that he forces into a frown when he removes his lips again from the cup. “Even if my sibling is a pretentious prat from time to time, I wouldn’t want to erase their identity. I’m just not that type of brother.” He sets the sippy cup on the bedside table and goes to lay with his bare feet propped on the headboard of the bed. “So, is Scor excited for his first Burrow holiday?”

“He called me on my muggle foam and asked me what the dress attire is. I told him a jumper would be fine.” Lorcan quirks a smile at my pronunciation. He taps his fingers on the bedspread, going to spread his legs out, keeping his feet propped on the headboard.

“Wish him the best for me. I’ve decided to go with Dad to New York. I’m dreading it. Too many muggle automobiles and city life. I’ve been to the muggle library and read that New York is like fifty times worse than London. Muggle London is the _worst_.”

“Well if all goes well I’d be performing there one day. Muggle New York has this arena and it’s like the O2, but perhaps _better_. All the best musicians have made it there. I want to make it there.” Lorcan rolls over on to his stomach and keeps his feet propped on the headboard.

“I think you will. Didn’t you say your tea leaves once said something about a _great destiny_?”

I snort. “I don’t really believe any of that divination shit.”

He laughs at me, turning his head to the door. My Auntie Luna comes in to his room and smiles at the both of us. Lorcan is right, she _did_ cut the nargles out her hair. All of my life she’s had really long blond hair, almost long enough to sit on. Now however, her hair is drastically shorter than I’ve ever seen her wear it, although not as near as short as Mum’s quidditch haircut.

“Albie, Ginny says it’s time to come downstairs and get ready to leave. Lorcan, come give wishes to Harry and Ginny. We won’t see them until the train.” Lorcan rolls off the bed and on to his feet.

“Sure Mum. Oi, Al, give this to Scor, will you?” He hands over a box he takes from the kitchen. “Mum made biscuits. They’re for his family. Holidays.” He grins, thrusting the box at me, standing on the front of his porch with his bare feet in the snow. “Bye Al.”

Christmas at the Burrow is always a mess. It’s always very loud, with cousins running amuck. Scorpius is pressed against my side, running his thumb over the back of my hand. Ocassionally he gives it a squeeze, pressing kisses to my knuckles. He looks over at the pouting Rose who couldn’t bring her girlfriend over, then at the doorway, then at me.

Where’s your brother?” Scorpius asks, sipping on his cup of cider.

“Being fashionably late, like always.” I roll my eyes, glancing at the doorway and hearing a loud cry of _James Sirius Potter!_ A smug smirk meets my lips when I notice my older brother make his grand entrance. His usual auburn curls I once admired so much have been dyed the colours of his quiddtch team. The blue was streak through his hair, while a portion of the side of his head had been shaved with the intricate design of his team’s initials.

“Edward,” My grandmother says loudly to Teddy. She has her hand placed over her heart, like the thought of my brother having partially shaved hair and blue is a crime. “Did you do this to my Jamie’s hair?”

Teddy turns away from putting a plait in Vic’s hair. “Molly, I’m Puddlemere’s official hairdresser. The team was doing charity events. He did it for charity,” Teddy stresses.

“Gran, it’s cool,” James says, coming into the room where I am. He smirks at me, then at Scorpius. He waggles his brows at me, and I in return swat at my brother and give him an equally Potteresque smirk. I notice our grandmother throwing her hands up in the air, frustrated at the idea of her little babies not being babies anymore. She then goes over to Hugo, going to chat with him.

“You really had to go and give Gran a heart attack on Christmas, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be the one to talk, Albie. I’m not the one that ditched getting a haircut to pierce my lip.” He reaches out to ruffle my hair. “’Sides, can’t back down from a bet when you’re on a team. Ask Mum,” James says with a smirk. “Word got around that the Harpies all got pixies in Mum’s first year. Some sort of team comradery. You would know that if you were on a team.” He reaches out to flick at my lipring.

“Al’s playing quidditch this year,” Scorpius announces. “He made the team second term last year after an injury happened. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, right,” James replies forgotten. “Hogwarts seems like ages ago. Like a dream,” he adds wistfully. “You’re out for one year and you forget that whole world exists.” He runs his hand through his hair. “You’ll learn that next year when you’re a mature adult like me,” he says, sitting on the ground. His ears perk up when he hears Gran call us for gifts.

“Presents!” He shouts, scrambling from his spot on the ground. “I call dibs!”

I snort, nudging Scorpius and whispering: “Mature adult my _arse_.” Scorpius giggles at my response.

“Okay, okay,” Gran calls. “It’s time for gifts,” she calls out, and it’s like everyone is a child again.

When the packages are all sorted out, Gran stands back and waits, before saying, “Okay, go!” Paper is thrown about, and cheers, moans, and groans all erupt simultaneously. Some are thrilled with their colours, some aren’t.

Scorpius sits back and watches me open my parcel. Everyone knows they’re jumpers, but everyone is still surprised regardless, or at least acts surprised. Gran smiles, watching as her children and grandchildren open their gifts.

“Oh, I forgot,” she says and goes over to hand one of the parcels to Scorpius. “Sorry dear, I didn’t see you behind Albus. Happy Christmas, Scorpius,” she says and bends down to kiss his cheek.

Scorpius unwraps the parcel and smiles at it. It’s the same patchwork of colours and yarn from the jumper my Gran had knitted him after his mother died. I had told him that it had so many various pieces of yarn because she didn’t have enough of one colour. The theme seems to be replicated in this jumper, only with one noticeable difference. In silver script seems to be the name _Scorpius_ written across the breast of where a pocket would be.

“Welcome to the family dear,” Gran says. I crawl in to the lap of my boyfriend and kiss his smiling lips. His smile is perhaps bigger than normal, and his jaw drops. After feeling the threads in the jumper he pauses, almost like he forgot his manners.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Weasley,” he says as polite as possible, holding back every squeal as he tugs on the jumper.

“It’s Molly, dear.”

“Thank you Molly,” Scorpius squeaks out. I laugh, staying seated in his lap. He bends down to kiss the top of my head. “Albie,” he whispers to me. “This is the best Christmas ever, does it _ever_ have to end?”

“Maybe we could take a nap?” I suggest. I stand up and grin at my boyfriend who just smiles at me. To everyone else, it may sound sexual. In all actuality, it really was a nap.

“Okay.” I reach my hand to pull him off the ground and him and I end up in my Uncle Charlie’s old room. As a kid, it was my favourite place to nap since it had posters of dragons and Gran would sometimes lay out his old dragon blanket.

I jump on the bed, using my wand to do my best shielding spell. I want to keep the sound to a minimum, and keep the outside noise out. Scorpius climbs on to the bed beside me, taking in his room. “It’s so cozy,” he hums, curling in to me as we rest on the bed. “I love it here. Not at all like the manor.”

“What’s your Christmas usually like?”

“Dad and Grandmother and Grandfather come over. I open gifts. It’s rather uneventful. Grandfather says something racist. Predictable. This is much better. I just wish Father would have attended. He’d enjoy it. He still feels anxious about stepping foot in this house. The war,” Scorpius reminds me.

I shrug down lower on to the bed, going to rest my head on his shoulder. Scorpius has the prettiest eyelashes and I love the way his brows are holding up his silky blond hair. It looks so nicely put together, like he put in an effort for getting ready for holidays with my family.

“Are you coming to our gig on New Years?”

He hums out a response, yawning. “Wouldn’t miss it, Love.”

“Front row?”

“Promise,” he yawns once again, hugging at his new cozy jumper.

The days of New Years I’m on the biggest high of my life. The gig went _extremely_ well. The lads and I played the best encore we’ve ever had, and our turnout was one of the greatest. The feeling of being on stage and making this our _thing_ feels like a dream I don’t want to wake from. We’re all drenched with sweat and high off the endorphins that only performing can give.

There’s a guy that meets us back stage. He’s got a vintage punk shirt on, his hair long and loose. He just grins at us and starts speaking. “You guys were wild, Mate. So we’ve uh, been checking out your youtube channel and whatnot and my band needs an opener for our tour this summer. You in?” He hands over his card. “Let us know.”

My palms sweat with excitement. I take the card and as soon as he leaves my band and I all jump and hug excited. An actual tour. We’ve been invited to headliner on an actual tour. We will be touring Europe on a bus for three months. I don’t even need to address my band with the yes. But, to make us seem more professional we decide that we’re going to discuss it at rehearsal the next afternoon.

After making my way from backstage I’m greeted with a longing kiss from my boyfriend. We’re just starting to get comfortable with public displays of affection, and this is one of the first kisses he’s done at my show.

“Can you believe it?” He asks me, linking hands and swinging them. “In two days we’ll be starting our final term at school.” He refrains from using the word Hogwarts. “Oh,” he adds. “I don’t think I told you, but Dad said for graduation we can go to Italy. You’re invited. We can go around your gigs and stuff.” His smile is genuine, like he can’t wait for me to vacation with him. “Won’t that be fun?”

I smile at him, nodding in agreement. Then I look at my band and my heart sinks again. I won’t have any time to go on vacation with the tour. We start three days after I get back in the summer. Once we confirm, the band we’re opening for will release our information out, and then we’ve got to start really getting prepared.

“Yeah,” I reply. I nod my head once again.

“You’ve been awfully happy,” he says, nuzzling his head against mine. “Anything good happen?”

“Uh, yeah,” I respond. My mind is stuck on the idea of how Scorpius will react to us being asked as an opener. “We got asked to be an opener.” His eyes widen and he smiles big at me. His kiss is one of excitement.

“Albie, that’s _fantastic!_ Opening a show is _amazing_. You guys will be the best opener yet! I’m not just bias,” he adds on, although his rare smirk is forming. Sometimes I forget how Slytherin Scorpius can be. “This causes for a celebration.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.

I nearly choke on my thoughts. Scorpius and I haven’t done anything near sexual together just yet. After my breakup with Jake, sex was something I was nervous about. Scorpius had promised me we would go at our own pace, and I don’t know if I feel ready just yet.

It turns out Scorpius’ celebration was one of the best nights of my final year of Hogwarts. It was also the calm before the storm.


	25. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus breaks the news. Scorpius isn't thrilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being late. With everything going on in the world, I hope you all are being safe and doing well. Stay home if you can! xx Comet Just one more chapter left.

I can almost laugh at myself at how I thought fifth year was stressful. I know it was and caused me to go into some major panic mode, but if I could just see how easy it was compared to final term seventh year, fifth year me wouldn’t have any of those stupid health problems.

Every professor and every class has projects and papers due galore. I’m in over my head with outlines for projects and thesis papers and all sorts of written assignments and studies. Plus, right before I went to Hogwarts for my final term, my band and I all agreed to accept the tour, which starts three days after I get home.

I haven’t told Scorpius that it’s an actual tour, that I won’t be able to spend summer with him at all. In fact, I hardly will be home. We start off in England, then we go to Wales, then Ireland, Scotland, and then further out east. We’re not scheduled to be back until early September. We know this is our shot. If we do well on our tour then there’s a better chance we’ll be asked to tour more. Eventually we’ll be able to do our own headline tour in respected venues.

I haven’t been able to tell anyone aside from my band about the tour. I just don’t know how to break the news to Scorpius. I know he wants me to go on vacation with him, but the band is slowly becoming my career. A shiver gets send down my spine at the thought of my band being an actual _career_. I’m actually doing something with this thing. I’m making something of myself. I’m finally starting to make steps that don’t have any connection to my father.

“Albie,” Scorpius says loudly. He waves a hand in front of my face. “Did you dice the palm leaves for me? We need to add an ounce of palm leaves, diced, to our potion.”

“Oh.” My thoughts are pulled away from my band and back to the realities of school. Even with NEWTs only months away, it’s becoming harder and harder to even focus on school. “Yeah,” I reply, shoving bunch of leaves in his direction. Scorpius takes the cup and stares at it. Frowning, he puts the cup back over by me.

“You didn’t dice the leaves. They’re whole. Can you dice the leaves for me?” He repeats, waving a hand in my face. I stare blankly at him, causing my boyfriend to sigh. “Never mind, I’ll do it,” he mumbles, frustrated. He grabs the knife to dice the leaves, hurrying as he does so.

“Shit,” he curses. He drops the knife and his swear takes me back to his attention. He’s gripping at his finger.

My eyes tear back to his cut and the blood dripping down his finger. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Do you have a plaster in your bag? That’ll save us some time before potions are due.” I reach in and pull out a plaster with a muggle superhero on the front. Wrapping it around my boyfriend’s finger, I give the tip a little kiss. Scorpius blinks, but smiles warmly at me. “Thanks Koalabee,” he mumbles, going back to dice the leaves.

As soon as our potion is finished, I throw the remains of my supplies in to my bag. I want to get back to the dorm or by the lake so I can start doing some designs of some shirts we want to have printed up for our upcoming performances. Scorpius notices my rush and pulls my shoulder.

“Hold up a minute, Sweetheart.” His voice is one filled with concern. The sugary sweet wording of his use of sweetheart makes me nervous. He doesn’t use that petname often, preferring the name of Koalabee to anything else. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at me. He presses his fingers to my pulse and squints. “You’re not feeling anxious about examinations are you?”

“No,” I rapidly shake my head.

“Albus,” Scorpius replies concerned. “If you’ve made another potions again…” He goes to smooth my hair behind my ear. “Sweetheart,” he whispers. “If you’re worried again…”

“I’m not.” I push his arm away, thoughts racing about what pictures to make for my band. I’m thinking of a simple logo for the t-shirt. I wish I could have a way to tell the guys about the designs I’ve thought up. I know we won’t have much time at all between ordering them and our first gig on tour. “School’s fine.” My words are quick which causes him to scowl.

“Albus, if you’re hurting over something let me help you. Lacey says you’ve been distracted through practice too. Even Cody is worried, and you know he never does.”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him. “It’s just band stuff. That’s all.”

Scorpius frowns, but just nods. “Okay. But if you need my help…”

I force a smile at him. “I’m fine.”

Scorpius doesn’t ask about band or school things for the next few weeks. Every time I think he’s going to ask, he decides against it. Instead, he and I go on about our normal studies. When I’m at practice, he isn’t in attendance, but instead working on his own school work and last minute projects. We’ve got time ticking for us, finals coming closer and closer.

My schoolwork isn’t suffering as much as Scorpius likes to think, my final project for muggle studies being close to completion. I’m in the library one afternoon when Scorpius is doing Head Boy duties, adding some more thoughts to my thesis for muggle studies. My sketchbook lay beside me opened on sketches with possible t-shirt designs.

A mess of hair takes a seat next to me, the fringe side swept. “Are those t-shirt designs? Wicked,” he says, sliding into the seat beside me. “What’re they for? Your band?”

I pause my quill and look over at Cody, going to tuck the quill back to my bag and close the pot of ink while I talk to him. He can be sort of a klutz at times, and last thing I want is for the ink pot to spill over on my work.

“We’re touring when I get back,” I slip out.

“Really? Like, an actual music tour?”

“Mm-hmm.” I flip a page in my sketchbook, showing him another design. “I’m trying to create good shirts so we have some decent merch on the tour. We’ll be gone for three months.”

He laughs, pressing his hands on the table. “Albie, you’ve got it made. A smoking hot boyfriend on tour with you all summer while you party? What does Scor think?”

My stomach churns at his description. “I haven’t told Scorpius we’re going on tour.”

Cody’s face falls. “Oh. Do you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know. He invited me to Italy.”

“ _Ooh la la_ ,” he teases. He presses his palm under his chin. “The city of romance and _sex_.”

I snort. “That’s France, dumbarse. Italy—well the parts Scorpius will go to—are historic and museums and romans and stuff. And fashion. My drummer for my band is muggle, and his sister sometimes goes to Milan for fashion stuff.”

Cody scrunches his face confused. “Is that the muggle film with the China princess?”

I shut my books with a loud snort. “Code, that’s _Mulan_. _Milan_ is fashion in Italy. I don’t know much about fashion and even _I_ know that.”

“Right.” His face is red, but he doesn’t seem upset. Instead he just laughs at himself. “But Scorpius doesn’t know you’re not going on holiday with him?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I don’t know how to tell him. He seems rather tense lately. Is he mad at me?”

“Scorpius, mad at _you_? Never. He’s just being a Head Boy and a smartarse and you know how he gets near exams. Plus, it’s _NEWTs_. You know the pressure he puts on himself for getting O’s on stuff.”

“He hasn’t mentioned me?”

Cody smirks. “ _Why_? Think he has the hots for someone else?” A panic strikes my face causing Cody to change his wording. “No, relax Al, he’s _fine_. You’re both _fine_. Besides, we all know he’s gayer than gay for you. He loves you. He also wants you to get your arse in gear for quidditch. We’ve done _good_ but Evy is getting more pissed at your distractions. I know its seventh year and all but I kind of want a cup under my belt too. Would be fun to say. So can you try more? I don’t want to have to put in your reserve.”

I shake my head rapidly. “No, no, you don’t need to. When’s practice? I can be there. Sorry, Mate.”

“It starts in five.” I slam my books and throw the rest in my bag, hurrying to practice. I don’t normally miss, and most of the time when I do it’s a slide because the team knows my medical history. However, I feel guilty that I’ve been slipping a little more this term. My band and my schoolwork have eaten up most of my time.

By the time I come back to the dorm, my hair is freshly washed and air drying, standing up in ways that is obvious to Scorpius that I’ve washed it. He smiles at me. “Quidditch practice?” He asks, leaving his bed to sit on mine. He crawls under my covers, going to wrap his arms around me, nose pressed in my hair. “Mm, it smells like the French one I use.”

“It is, and I was.” I curl in closer to him, shoving my back up against his front.

“How’s the team? We in for a cup this year?”

“Cody hopes.”

Scorpius muffles out a laugh, wrapping his arms around me. His voice is soft. “It’s nice to see you committing time to quidditch again,” he says, his voice smaller and softer. I don’t know if it was supposed to be something I wasn’t supposed to hear. But it was, and my heart sinks.

“Yeah…” I add in a soft whisper, but his eyes are already closed.

He doesn’t remember the words he said in the morning. He wakes up like normal, kissing my head and getting breakfast, toast popped in his mouth. He’s off to work on his care of magical creatures’ final project and his history of magic revision shortly after. I don’t see him until he’s curled in to bed next to me later that night, the pattern repeating for the remainder of the week.

At our Saturday match, I finally catch a glimpse of him in the stands. After we win, he comes to the field to kiss me, but then disappears again, not seen at all in our common room party. I haven’t seen him as much since his wording that night, leaving me to wonder if he actually does remember what he said.

My hearts pounding at the thought that maybe he is just lying about the band. Maybe he _doesn’t_ want me to go in to it, even though he acts supportive. I try to shrug that idea away, but the less I see of him, the more the thought starts to pop in my head.

However, the panic seems to disappear every time I see him. But as soon as he disappears, the panic strikes me again. I know with Scorpius everything is different. I know he isn’t the type to disassociate with me, or to talk behind my back. I _know_ he loves me. But then my insecurities get the best of me and I think back to how Jake acted when he got annoyed with me. Sometimes, I briefly wonder if Scorpius is getting annoyed of me too.

We’re weeks away from graduation and from our NEWTs. The quidditch house cup is two weeks away and Cody is having us do extra practices on top of our additional work. The sketches for the band have been put to the side as I work on my school work. Ironically, as soon as I stopped working on band stuff I see Scorpius again. He’s in the library, hair ruffled and bend over a pile of books.

“Albie.” His smile is a tired one, hand print imprinted on his cheek. “Koalabee,” he mumbles, his smile still tired. “I’ve not seen you in ages. Feels like years.”

“I love you,” I say, and his eyes spark just a bit. His sleepy smile is one that I adore looking at, even when his eyes are crinkled and he is stringing his thoughts together.

“I love you too. I just wish I didn’t have eight thousand different papers and duties. Guess my love of learning is good then, huh? Can we do a puzzle? I haven’t gotten to do one in ages. After I finish my paper that is…” I look over at his work and see the scribbles. Part of his work has become nonsense. Even though many of his theories and his classes’ work often appears as nonsense to me, I can tell when his nonsense is just rubbish with no intellectual intent.

“How about now? Or a nap,” I suggest. My heart calms down when I convince myself that he has just been studying. He’s not angry at me. He’s just been busy with school and duties. “Our final match is soon. Will you go?”

“Course.” He yawns. “What time is it?”

I check his expensive watch. “Seven thirty.”

“Oh. I’ve been here for twelve hours.”

“Scorp?” I notice his head is resting on his books, but his eyes are shut. I go to my boyfriend and press a kiss to his head, and he flutters his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Let’s go back to the room.”

“Study,” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eye.

“Tomorrow?”

“Guess,” he mumbles again. I grab his books and place them in his bag, then wrap my arms around him to support him. He leans on me as we go back to the dorm and even though the sun is still shining, we both go back to sleep. Whoever said that seventh year was easy—I think they probably never completed it.

Scorpius has never slept in late since I’ve known him. He’s always been an early riser, even when I wake up to go jogging with Lorcan. He’s almost always up by the time I get back, but this time he isn’t. I just let him sleep off all his studying, going instead to jog with Lorcan, then go to quidditch practice, then work some on our potions project. My final paper for muggle studies is almost completed aside from a few citations I have to add, and even though I’ve written songs, those bounded pieces of parchment feel like my greatest triumph. I do not know how I’ve managed to write that many words, but I cannot wait for Scorpius to read it.

“Ready for practice?” Cody asks, noticing a sleeping Scorpius curled up with Hooty in his grip. He grins at me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah. Hopefully he’ll be awake when I get back.”

“He _should_ be. The committee for the seventh year party is meeting tonight. He’s Head Boy, he has to go.”

I groan. The Seventh Year Party is an event that was created right after Teddy left. It’s supposed to be right before graduation and is a school sponsored event. Mostly it’s just activities on the quidditch pitch and is seventh years only. Each year, the seventh years try to out beat the previous year, but it all ends up the same. We usually end up having bounce obstacles on the pitch and food. It’s not nearly as fun as most of the other parties in our dorms, but, no seventh year really skips it. As Head Boy, it’s their duty to delegate the tasks and organize the event along with their Head Girl. Everyone knows what to expect, but it still seems to shock everyone regardless.

“That thing?”

“Not everyone gets to go to fancy rockstar parties, Al. Besides, this is Scorp’s good clean fun sort of thing. If anything screams Scorpius Malfoy, it’s the seventh year party.”

It’s my turn to laugh hard. “Cute. He’s not as clean as you think.”

“Albus,” Cody laughs with a coy smirk. “You sly niffler you.”

I shake my head and lightly punch Cody in the shoulder. “Let’s get to practice, dork. I know you’re captain, but Evy will hex both of us if you’re late. _How_ did Lori even make you captain in the first place?”

He dusts his shoulder off playfully. “I have my charming ways.”

Practice was cut short that evening when since Lacey was part of the seventh year committee with her twin. I knew I should probably go and support Scorpius, but dances and school functions were not my scene. Besides, I had to write a paper on transfiguration methods and theories that I had neglected to write, and the deadline was in two days. On top of that, we had an extra practice tomorrow night because of the match coming up soon.

Fifteen cups of coffee and a power nap, I force my eyes to adjust to the parchment. Scorpius stops by and presses a kiss to my head. “Wear your glasses, Love,” he says, slipping them on my eyes. Suddenly the words seem clearer, and I catch an easy to fix mistake. I blink again, hoping the mistake will fix itself. “Long day?” He asks and sits down on my bed, propping Hooty between his legs.

“Transfiguration methods and theories. _Why_?”

Scorpius laughs lightly. “We’re almost finished with school. You can do this. You’ll do even better if you just _wear your glasses._ ” He stresses those words again, but I roll my eyes and give him my cutest smile. “No, no way to cute your way out of this, Albus Severus.” He smirks, showing his inner Slytherin and starting to tickle me. He reaches to grab at my sides and I let out a high pitched noise that causes Scorpius to snort. He laughs even louder and digs his fingers to my side, tickling harder.

We go on like that until we’re yelled at by a few other guys in the dorm. They’re trying to head to sleep. Cody peers at us from the tip of his covers, hair sticking up at all angles. “Can you guys _sleep_? Match is soon and I’ll be damned if we lose because of Scorpius kisses.”

Scorpius laughs again. “Okay, okay. Albie, get in bed. I’ll brush your hair then we’ll sleep.”

“You guys are _so_ gay,” Cody mumbles, eyes shutting as he falls back to sleep.

The final quidditch match of my career at Hogwarts isn’t as great as my sixth year final match. It’s not because we don’t win, which we do. It’s not because the match isn’t epic, with one of the greatest end of the year parties I’ve ever encountered. Scorpius does all the cheering and support he can during the match, joining in the after party like we do after the ball. He peppers kisses to me as we sip on firewhiskey, the stress of seventh year temporarily removed from our thoughts. His beam and his smile are infectious, and every bit makes my heart melt.

“Can you believe it’s almost end of year?” Lacey runs her hands through Evy’s hair. The party has died down to just the older members of the team. “Emmie and Rose said they’re going on holiday together after graduation. Can you belive that’ll soon, we’ll be alums?”

“Some of us won’t even be in the _country_ after school ends.” I take that cue as a way to sip harder on my drink.

“Italy, I know Dad and I’ve been before but it’s just so exciting,” Scorpius rambles. “I know they’re kind of silly, but I really want to do a gondola ride when we get there, Albie.” He’s just spewing out random ideas about the trip. The trip I’ve still neglected to tell him I won’t attend. Cody glances at me, and my heart slumps.

“I’m sleepy,” I announce loudly. I sound sober enough that Scorpius perks up some, forcing his sobriety into play. He takes on the caring boyfriend role and smiles sleepily at our friends.

“Hmm, too much activity for my Koala,” he says sleepily. He locks his fingers into mine. “Let’s sleepy.”

“Let’s sleepy,” I repeat.

“No teasy.” He adds, blinking back sleep and closing his eyes.

The morning of the seventh year party, Scorpius is up even earlier than normal. He’s up with a cup of herbal tea and a frantic look on his face. Just by the look, I can already tell he’s on his way to having an anxiety attack about prepping for the day’s event.

Pushing myself up and out of bed, I trot over to my boyfriend and press a lazy kiss to his cheek. His pale face turns a hint of pink and he grins sleepily. “Albie,” he greets. He lets a yawn escape from his lips. “The event starts this afternoon.”

“Then why are you up?” He shoots me a sleepy glare. I know his tendencies to prep on things. “Okay,” I reply, holding my hands up in defense. “I get it. You want to make this perfect.”

“Better than perfect. Come help? We’ve got to get pixies around, the elves need to make the food. There’s so much to do. I’m so glad I don’t have any classwork to do at the moment. I’ve finished it early for this very reason. So, to the pitch.”

“Are you sure you want to go in your pajamas?” I tease.

He looks down embarrassed. “I suppose not. How should I dress?”

“Wear this.” I throw him one of my t-shirts I made up for the band. He looks down at it confused. “You’re going to be bouncing about. Why wear the school uniform?”

He tugs on the t-shirt and smiles. “Hey, this is neat. Did you make this design?”

“Yeah, merch. Thought maybe we should branch out from stickers.”

“Well, it looks cool!”

We’re setting up down on the pitch tying things down when Cody comes waltzing on the field. Its so strange to see him on the pitch without a broom in sight. He’s wearing his own relaxed shirt and trousers, the familiar logo of Puddlemere United ever present.

“Gotta represent my favourite Potter,” he teases me. He gives me a wink. “Just kidding, you’re my favourite Potter.” He nudges at my arm, glancing at Scorpius’ shirt. “Wicked! Is that the shirt you’re using for the tour?”

My face pales and I pray Scorpius doesn’t hear. He does, however, and he appears next to me, arms crossed. He’s not happy. Very rarely does Scorpius Malfoy ever get upset with me. This time, however, he’s got no trace of that loveable smile on his face. If my silly study cards were any indication, Scorpius Malfoy was angry.

“What tour?” He asks me.

“Al and his band are going ‘round Europe,” Cody blabs. I shoot him a look, and he slinks back. My looks aren’t normally deadly, but he takes the look as meaning his cue to exit

“I was asking Albus, Cody,” Scorpius says in his head boy serious tone. “Albus Severus, what tour is this?”

Cody slinks away quickly, the others avoiding us. Scorpius grips at my arms and tugs me away from the crowd, ice blue eyes even icier. “You know, you should be a model,” I compliment, but Scorpius doesn’t say anything about it.

“Albus,” his tone sounds hurt. “What is this about a tour? I thought we were going to Italy.”

“I-“ My heart pounds in my chest. “My band got a tour offer.”

“Albie, that’s great!” His tone changes, but then he notices me not smiling. “Why aren’t you excited? I know you are.”

“It ends in September.”

“So after Italy, you go on tour?”

I shake my head. Scorpius frowns. “It’s instead of Italy. We leave three days after I get home.”

“Oh.” He sighs, looking in to the distance. “So you’re going to go on tour.”

“Well yeah. You can come?” I ask hopefully. Scorpius shakes his head.

“Dad has been planning this graduation trip all year. It’s important to him. And it’s important to me. I can’t not go on this trip, Albus.”

“Well, I can’t not go on tour.” My words bite back harsher than I ever imagined them to come out. Scorpius shakes his head. He puts something together and then frowns, deeper.

“So Cody knew this before I did?” I bite my lip, chewing nervously around my lip ring. Scorpius takes that answer as a yes, and places his hands on his hips. He then runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a big annoyed sigh. “Albus, why does Cody know this before I do?” I shrug, unresponsive, and Scorpius huffs. “So your boyfriend and best friend isn’t the first to know? Am I the last? Who else knows? Lorcan? Lysander? Rose?” Frustrated fingers keep raking through the blond locks. “Albus, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” My voice comes out tiny. “I guess I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well. You did.” Scorpius walks off, leaving me alone in a sea of bouncy houses.


	26. Tears & Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus has some work to do...

Scorpius and I have fought, but nothing has left me in more distraught than this one. I thought maybe he’d get over it, but he didn’t. He ended up sleeping in his own bed that night, and when we woke up he didn’t say good morning, or even acknowledge me. Instead, he went about his day not speaking and working on his NEWT projects. The final exams were coming closer and closer and as glad as I was to almost be done with school, for once this year, my band wasn’t the cause of my distraction.

I was jogging in the early morning, although my jog had turned into aimless wandering. The lake seemed calm, but all I wanted to do was erupt. My eyes wandered to the lake and I resisted the urge to toss myself in and drown. I never felt more angry at myself, never felt more hurt. Of all the foolish things I’ve ever done, this feels worse than taking that stupid potion. I wish that potion would’ve swallowed me whole, would’ve encompassed me and ended my years of Hogwarts. I pick up a rock and chuck it in the water, letting it bubble at the surface before sinking down to the depths with the giant squid.

“You know, studies have shown that rocks don’t float. Not even those. They’re not rocks by the way. They’re stones. Not the same thing.” The person goes to sit beside me, going to stick his bare feet in the lake. It’s Lorcan, who feels like just the right person I need. I think back to the last winter before Scorpius and I got together, when I thought I had a crush on him. Lorcan quickly smashed that perception for me, but the what if still lingers in this moment.

“Scorpius hates me.”

“No he doesn’t.” The words are simple. Lorcan is always simple. “He’s just upset. He’ll come around.”

“But he’s mad at me.”

“So? People get mad and still love each other. Albie, just take him out to dinner, apologize, and let him get it out of his system. You’ll be fine.” He tosses his hair on the opposite side of his head, twirling his feet in the water. “Do you think merpeople are friendly? Uncle Harry says they’re not. I don’t doubt it, but I wish they were. It would be nice to visit.” He sticks his leg in deeper and lightly kicks the water at me. “It must be exceptionally lonely to be a merfolk.”

“It sounds better than here,” I mumble. I take my socks and shoes off, discarding the top of my shirt. I’m not in my school uniform, neither is Lorcan.

Lorcan narrows his eyes at me. “Albus, what’re you doing?” He notices as I toss aside my clothes and jump in the lake. The water feels cool against my skin. It’s wild, it’s reckless, and I just let myself sink in further. The water has always been calming for me. I let myself sink further, feeling my ears start to pop and let out a small amount of bubbles. It feels freeing. Being underwater with no cares of the time feels like the escape I needed. For the moment I don’t think about school or the band. My focus instead remembers the last time I was in this lake, which makes me want to sink more. I go lower in the water, a piece of rope throw in from a student wrapping around my leg. I’m caught; I can’t get out.

I can start to feel my breath getting shorter and my eyes going hazy. I feel a splash and a tug on my arms and upper body. When I lay flat back on land, I see blond. “Scorpius?” My mouth spits out water.

“Scorpius is in class. Albus, you idiot. I know the merfolk are interesting, but you shouldn’t go swimming in the lake. It’s polluted and disgusting. Thank Merlin I was here to actively pay attention to you, doofus.” His long hair is sopping wet and clinging to the side of his face. His shirt is off, but his trousers are clinging to his legs like skinny jeans. “Scorpius and you have a fight, so you try to drown yourself? Albus. Shit,” Lorcan curses and pinches the bridge of his nose. Lorcan hardly ever uses that condescending tone, but witnessing me trying to drown myself must have awaken the protective side of him. “Albus,” he says and grips at my shoulder. “Talk to Scorpius. Fucking hell, Mate, talk to the lad and let him know what’s going on. Remember when we were four and you were five and you trashed Lysander’s toy? Remember what my mum made you do?”

“She made me write an apology letter. Talk to them.”

“So, do that. Talk to Scorpius.”

“But what if he won’t listen?”

Lorcan shakes his head. “I’m coming to the dorm with you.” He grabs my arm and we walk to the Slytherin dorm. There’s no flinch as the obvious non-Slytherins enter. Lorcan and Lysander have been in the dorm enough to know their way around. Coming up to the bed Scorpius is in, Lorcan waits for the other blond. Walking back in the room in his plush robe, Scorpius freezes.

“Lorcan? What’re you doing in here?”

“Your idiot boyfriend almost tried to drown himself in the lake.”

Scorpius’ pale features pale even more. “Is he alright?”

“Right here,” Lorcan says, jabbing his thumb at me. I slump.

“You fucking idiot,” Scorpius curses at me. He runs his hand through the wet strands of hair. “Albus, you could’ve died. I’m not—“ Scorpius hushes himself. “I’m not dealing with this shit, Albie. Not right now.”

“I’m sorry?” My voice weakens.

“Albus, I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got NEWTs to study for, and exam reviews. We’ll talk about this later. Just—“ Scorpius’ eyes soften. “Koalabee,” he says quietly. “Please just—let’s talk about this later.”

“Can I take you out?”

Scorpius looks around. “Yes,” he agrees. “Let’s discuss next Hogsmeade weekend. Our last one…” His voice sounds remorseful. “Right before NEWTs. Yes, that’s a good idea. I don’t need another thing on my mind during the tests. So, Saturday?”

“Sure. I-I love you,” I tell him quietly.

“I do too,” Scorpius replies. “Saturday,” he replies, checking his watch. “That’s three days from now. Now if you excuse me, I’ve got to go to class. See you in potions.” He waves at me, and I go to take a seat on my bed.

“Nope.” Lorcan pulls me back up. “If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right. Albie, I’m a patient friend, am I not?” I scrunch my brows. “All my life I’ve studied your psychological patterns and experiences. I’ve learned how you do things and took the time to understand you like many other’s don’t. Aside from your muggle friends, Scorpius is the only one I’ve ever met who gets you. He knows you, without the studying or the psychology side of things. You and him belong together and I’d eat a fucking dragon before I’d let the two of you go without each other. So, being the good friend I am, I’m going to force you to do all the right steps.” My brows raise, but Lorcan doesn’t say anything. Instead, he continues on his rambles. “Apology, your little study cards. You’ve got your NEWTs, but you’ve got your Scorpius NEWT too.”

Lorcan stuck true to his word. Right after I finished my classes for the day, Lorcan took me aside and we went to the studious Ravenclaw dorm. In his lap were the childish cards I despised. One by one he held them up and quizzed me like my therapist used to when I was a child. When I did to Lorcan’s standards in completing my cards, he would then move on to manners and etiquette. I felt like I was five again and back in my therapist’s office.

Scorpius notices, too, as he sees me sitting on my bed one night after Lorcan and I finished our own studying. He sees a brief glimpse of the cards and his sleepy smile widens. “Albie, are those your cards?”

“What cards?” Cody’s voice is loud and panicky. “Is there another NEWT I’ve forgotten to study for?”

Scorpius smiles at Cody, letting a chuckle escape his lips. “No, it’s just an Albie thing.”

“Oh thank Merlin.” He turns his head, shoving his head back under the covers of his bed.

Saturday came and I was as nervous as my first date with Scorpius. I had an apology letter written out just as Lorcan had instructed. Before the date, Lorcan came back over and helped me get ready. My piercings and varnish were still present, as they always were, but my hair was tamed with his French product and my clothes were of the nicer sort. Unlike our first date, Lorcan walked me over to Puddifoots for our date.

Scorpius sat opposite side me, looking as dashing as ever. He looked smart: hair impeccably combed, trouser wrinkle free, shirt neatly buttoned, with the top two undone. He looked like he was worth the galleons his family had. My nerves were starting to get the best of me as I sat down across from him. I nod thanks to Lorcan who leaves the restaurant and goes off to the bookstore.

“Koalabee,” Scorpius gushes. His mouth is upturned into a s soft smile.

“Hi.” My voice doesn’t come out as confident as I hope.

“What’s that?” He asks softly, addressing the folded parchment in my grip.

“A letter. For you,” I say and hand it over. “You don’t have to read it now. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for upsetting you and not telling you first.”

“Albie,” Scorpius says quietly. “You know you can come and tell me anything. Just because we’re dating, doesn’t mean you need to hide things from me. Please tell me these things, please. You don’t need to hide things from me, even if you think they’ll upset me. You also never should try and hurt yourself over a person. Whether it be me, your family, your band, Lorcan, Jake, anyone.”

“I just felt so shitty.”

“Then tell me. We’ll work through it. Hey, we made it through fifth year,” he says softly. He reaches his hands across the table and smiles sadly at me. “I’ll miss you on tour. Maybe I can catch a gig or two. Take Dad along.” He forces out a laugh.

“You’re not breaking up with me?” The words fly out of my mouth.

“Never,” Scorpius replies, face crunched in confusion. “Over a little fight? Albus, leaving over a stupid fight is just stupid. That’s all it is, a stupid fight. We’ve been through worse. Nothing you can say can make me hate you.”

“Not even Bathilda Bagshot is a fake?”

His smile is still present, but he laughs lightly, the frown slowly forming. “Don’t ever say that. She’s a gift.”

I smirk. “What about Hogwarts a History is the most boring book in existence?”

“Watch it, Potter.” He smirks back.

“Are you gonna do something about it, Malfoy?”

“Oh yeah,” he replies.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. After NEWTs, because the tests are soon and I need the top marks. I’m neck and neck with Rose.”

“You don’t have to beat her. You’re plenty smart.”

Scorpius shrugs, giving a sheepish smile. “I just want to get high marks. Show that my career isn’t a joke.”

“But it’s not,” I defend for him.

“Oh, I know it’s not a joke. Others don’t see it. It’s not in the ministry, so it doesn’t seem valid. I’m not worried. I just want to prove that I’m not being foolish. That even if I follow you on tour, I’m not making some academic regret.”

“Do you mean it? You want...to join me on tour?”

“Not this one. But there will be more. That’s what I want. To be with you. I want to study beasts and be on the road with you. What’s better than studying with the ones you love? For me, that’s you.”

“So you’re going to live on a bus with smelly band members?”

Scorpius laughs. “If I can handle the muggle tent, I can handle the bus. After Italy,” he adds with a reminder. My heart fills with joy at the thought of my boyfriend going around on tour with me.

“Right.” I nod. “So…after this, puzzles?”

Scorpius smiles at me. “I thought you’d ask that. Let’s do the big one. The one of the castle.”

Our afternoon is spent quietly doing puzzles and laughing and chatting. NEWTs are stuck in the back of our mind but we don’t do anything about it. We could study, but we instead spend the time together, just being together. Towards the evening, our friends start trickling in to the dorm, joining us in the process of fixing our puzzle. Even with NEWTs only a week or so away, we’re not at all worrying about our grades, or our tests. Instead we just spend the time enjoying time. Together. It was how Hogwarts was supposed to be in the beginning, but turned out in the end.

It was everything I had hoped it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to check out my [ writing tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)


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